


Shades of Gray

by Orison



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-08-24 13:36:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16641156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orison/pseuds/Orison
Summary: When Mary unexpectedly comes back to Hawaii and in Steve’s life, the consequences are direr and more painful than any of them could ever imagine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hello, everyone. Missed me? I’d like to share another one of my stories with you. 
> 
> I had originally written this a long time ago for another fandom but never posted it. I found it a couple of weeks ago and thought it would be perfect for 5-0, with a few minor changes of course.
> 
> This is the result. I hope you like it.
> 
> Standard disclaimer applies: I own nothing. This is just for fun. Because yes, writing angst and drama is my twisted idea of fun.

***

_“Somewhere between a good deed and a bad deed_  
are a thousand shades of gray.”

***

_“You're drunk.”_

_“I don't have to justify myself to you!”_

_“Lower your voice, my daughter is sleeping.”_

_“Don't tell me what to do!”_

_“Anthony, please...”_

_“You don't talk to me like that, you hear me? You don't talk to me like that!”_

_“Stop it! This is not your house, and I don't take orders from you anymore. Now lower your voice!”_

Steve McGarrett woke with a start, sitting up in bed amid the tangled sheets. 

Heart thumping loudly, a thin film of sweat covering his face, he blinked as his bedroom came into view and ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

It had all been a dream. 

A weird one at that, because he could count on one hand the times he'd dreamt about his sister, let alone his sister arguing with somebody.

Mary Ann had showed up the week before, little Joanie perched on her hip, saying it had been too long since they’d spent time together and that she was going to stay with him for a while.

Steve had frowned at that, his _‘something’s not right’_ synapses firing at the same speed as when Uncle Vito had showed up to ‘fix’ the restaurant a few months before. But Mary had sworn everything was fine and he’d backed off, realizing it was indeed good to have her around now that Junior had moved into his own apartment. Slowly, he'd gotten used to it and actually started to enjoy spending time with her. 

Plus, having the little girl around had improved his mood considerably. Uncle Steve liked to spoil her every chance he got, and Joanie had him wrapped around her little finger in no time. 

Living in their old house together as adults wasn't so bad after all.

Except for the bad dreams that occasionally still plagued him. 

Steve was no stranger to nightmares. In fact, he’d had them for most of his adult life, triggered by the job and the stress that came with it. He would fall asleep at night and dream of floating in the tank inside the Arcturus; eyes, nose and ears sealed. Of losing his team members in a shootout. Of Danny deciding to move back to Jersey because he’d had enough. He also dreamt about his mother at times, about his dad’s murder, about what could've been if his family hadn't been dismembered. 

Waking up in a cold sweat and feeling unsettled was a routine he'd grown accustomed to.

Just like this time.

Taking a deep breath, he started to ease his head back down to the pillow when he heard the voices again.

_“Come on, I just wanna talk to you!”_

_“We've got nothing to say!”_

_“Mary, I'm warning you...”_

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. 

_What the hell?_

It couldn't be a nightmare. Not when he was already awake. He tossed the covers aside and jumped to his feet, feeling his stomach tighten with fear.

_“You know I didn’t mean that… Please listen to me!”_

_“I’m done listening to your crap!”_

Hastily climbing down the stairs, Steve tried to focus on the conversation but the bits of dialogue he’d put together so far really didn’t help. All he could hear was the distress in his sister’s tone and someone else he didn’t recognize.

“What the hell is going on?”

Mary jumped, startled by the sudden voice. “Steve...”

“Who is this guy? What’s he doing here? Huh? What the hell are _you_ doing here?” he asked as he came face to face with a man he had never met before.

Mid-thirties, narrow blue eyes, sun-bleached blond hair pulled back and knotted with a rubber band, he looked like a surfer out of an LA magazine. The murderous glare Steve pinned him with barely registered in his alcohol-muddled brain and he took a step forward, jabbing his finger in the air in Steve's direction. “Who are you?” he dared to ask.

Mary quickly stepped in front of him. “Just stay out of it, Steve. This is between me and him.” 

Steve ignored her and kept his gaze focused on the other man. “I asked. Who you are. And what you’re doing here,” he said, enunciating every word slowly and clearly.

“This your brother? The cop?” the man —Anthony, that much he'd learned, briefly glanced at Mary before turning to look back at him. “Or what? You’re going to shoot me?”

“Yeah, this is her brother. The cop,” Steve hissed through clenched teeth, eyes still dark with rage. “And I don’t need a gun to flatten you to the ground.”

“I’m not scared of you,” he replied as he put his hands on his hips and stared defiantly at him. “Way to go, Mary Ann, have your brother fight your battles for you! Once a loser, always a loser, right?” A harsh laugh escaped his lips. “I can’t believe this… I helped you! Gave you and your daughter a chance when no one would, and this is how you repay me?” 

“Anthony!” Mary gasped.

Steve took a step back, shock registering on his face. “What’s he talking about, Mare?” he asked, completely thrown off guard by the revelation. He opened his mouth to say more but no sound came out so he closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. The stranger in his living room wasn’t making any sense and all he wanted to do was wipe that smug grin off his face.

“She didn’t tell you about me, did she? Why am I not surprised? Come on, sweetheart, tell him about us. Tell him how good we are together!” 

“This is Anthony Morris,” Mary said as she rolled her eyes. “We, uh…we had a thing.”

“You had a thing…” Steve repeated in disbelief. “That still doesn't explain what he's doing in our house in the middle of the night.”

Anthony laughed. “A thing? Don't sell ourselves short, what we have is much more than that!”

“ _Had_ ,” Mary punctuated. “I told you it was over and I was moving back to Hawaii.”

_Moving back to Hawaii?_

Steve's eyes widened at the news that somehow, in the week they'd spent together, Mary had neglected to share. He felt like a spectator of a badly acted movie and the more he learned, the less he understood. 

“That's why I came, alright? To take you and Joanie back to LA. There's a plane leaving tomorrow at 8, we can be home in—”

Mary gave an exasperated sigh, although the look in her eyes betrayed a hint of fear. “There's no home, Anthony! There's no you and I. We're done. Over. History.” 

“You don't get to decide when we're done! I decide!”

Steve saw a flash of fury in the younger man's eyes and stepped protectively in front of his sister. “Did he hurt you?” he asked as realization dawned on him. The look she gave him broke his heart into a thousand pieces. 

Maybe not tonight, but definitely in the past.

“You have three seconds to leave this house,” he warned, wishing he could end the guy right then and there, the intensity of the desire balling his hands into fists at his sides.

Why hadn't Mary talked to him about whatever mess she'd gotten herself into? 

The days of reckless behavior and drug addiction had seemed to be over since she'd become a mother. She was not the same troubled young woman who had come back into his life after his father's death, and he was having a hard time reconciling the image of grown-up, level-headed Mary with the woman who had gotten involved in what he was now sure to be an abusive relationship.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted when Anthony Morris lunged at him. “She's mine!” he screamed, striking a punch that was easily deflected by his much more skilled and sober opponent. “I'm not leaving without her!” 

“Son of a bitch!” Steve's anger grew into a full-blown rage and he punched the guy in the face, sending him sprawling on the floor before he could even realize what was happening.

“Steve, stop!” Mary tried to grab him by the shoulders, but he twisted out of her grasp and lunged after him again. 

“You're not taking her anywhere, you hear me?” he hissed, hitting him again. “You're not taking my sister anywhere!”

Anthony rose shakily to his feet and although inebriated, was able to put up a decent fight, trading a few blows of his own. The two men fought under Mary Ann’s shocked gaze until a well-placed hit to the solar plexus knocked the wind out of him and he landed on the pavement again. As he lay there in a daze, blood running out of his nose and lip, Mary finally grabbed hold of Steve and steered him away.

“Leave. Right now!” he yelled as he struggled to get free. “And don’t ever come back!” 

“You’re gonna pay for this!” Anthony snarled, wiping the blood off his face.

“I said stop it! Both of you!” Mary kept herself between Steve and the poor excuse for a man she’d partnered herself with, one hand against her brother’s chest to keep him in place, the other gripping his arm. “Steve, look at me,” she said, feeling his heart pound madly beneath her palm. “That’s enough. It’s over. Get out.”

“ _What?_ ” Steve stilled, staring at her with shocked, bewildered eyes.

“Leave.”

He blinked, wondering if she had lost her mind. “Are you kidding me?”

Mary Ann’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’m not. Go cool your head off, I'll deal with him.” 

“Me? Seriously?” He gave the man another dirty look, hoping to never see him again and vowing to kill him if he did.

“Now.”

Realizing his sister's decision wasn't open for debate, Steve let out an angered breath and raised his hands in surrender. “I can't believe this...”

As Mary looked at him, tears glimmering in her eyes, he slumped his shoulders in defeat, grabbed his car keys from the side table next to the couch and, without another word, went out the door.

***

Night had wrapped the island in a dark blanket, a gloom so deep even the street lamps weren’t able to fully penetrate it. A cold breeze sliced through it like a sharp knife as rain clouds rolled across the horizon. 

Steve jammed his hands into his pockets and hunched over as he walked from his truck to “The Shack”, one of Waimanalo’s many neighborhood bars. Roused from deep sleep and catapulted into a living nightmare he hadn't had time to change, and the shorts and t-shirt he was wearing weren’t warm enough for this kind of weather, even in Hawaii.

He'd been driving around aimlessly for the last hour or so, wandering from one neighborhood to another to try and calm himself down, still having a hard time believing his sister had asked him to leave. Didn't she realize the man was trouble? That people never change and stab you in the back the first chance they get?

But more than that, it was the guilt that was eating at him.

How had he not seen this? 

They talked regularly on the phone. She seemed happy, with a steady job and a daughter that had drawn out the best in her. And yet she'd failed to mention this guy to him, and whatever role he’d played in her life. Did they argue like that back home? Did they yell at each other with Joanie in the room?

Shaking his head, Steve stepped inside the dimly lit bar. Not too crowded, not too loud, it was the perfect place to just sit and forget about his own problems for a while.

He wasn't in the mood to socialize so after a quick look around he decided on one of the sheltered booths in the back, behind the bar. As he inched his way across the room he noticed a familiar figure sitting at a table not too far from him, eyes closed, head between his hands.

Surprised, he scanned the patrons to see if there was anybody else he recognized before approaching the table. 

“Hey. You alright, man?”

Lou Grover raised his head and blinked at him until recognition set in. “McGarrett...”

From the shot glasses lined up in front of him Steve could tell he'd been there for a while. 

“What are you doing here?”

A half-laugh escaped the former SWAT Captain’s lips. “Whatcha think I’m doing, man? I'm getting drunk. Totally and completely wasted,” he said, raising his glass as if to cheer to the occasion.

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes and tell him that he was doing a pretty good job so far. Something in the older man’s body language and behavior was wrong. He looked… defeated, a word he never thought he’d use to describe him, and there were tears glistening in his eyes. 

Lou was a good friend, a brother that had helped him through rough times, and seeing him like this, sad and vulnerable, made his chest tighten with an all-too-familiar pain. 

“Bad day?” he asked as he slid into the booth in front of him.

Lou’s mouth curved into a sad smile. “Yeah, you can say that. Today’s the day, you know? Five years since the night that changed my career. Hell, my whole life. Little Christian would be seven years old…” A shadow crossed his features and he fell silent for a moment. “I’m sorry man, didn’t mean to drag you down with me. It’s just… I didn’t want Renee to see me like this so, you know… I’m sorry.”

A blonde, petite waitress stopped by the table, breaking the awkward silence. “What do you want?” she asked as she smiled at Steve.

“Whatever he's having.”

She nodded. “Two whiskeys, then.”

They watched her leave and return a few moments later with their drinks, the smile still plastered on her face. 

“Enjoy.”

Steve thanked her and she disappeared again. Ice cubes rattled softly as he sighed and stirred his drink with the stick. This was not how he'd imagined to spend his night. One minute he was in bed, sleeping in a house that was finally alive and happy, and the next he was woken by a stranger opening up a can of worms about his only living relative. 

Yes, whiskey sounded quite good at the moment. 

“So what brings you here, man?” Lou asked. “Five years, I’ve barely ever seen you drink…”

Steve pretended not to hear the question and leaned back into the booth, wiping one hand across his face. 

A minute ticked by.

“Is it your boy Danny? ‘Cause you know, you need to cut him some slack. He loves you, man. He’d do anything for you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then let it go, man,” he advised, picking up his glass and downing its content in one big gulp. “Whatever he did, just…forgive and forget. Life’s too short. I know that for a fact…”

Nodding, Steve stared into his own whiskey as if searching for something to say. Drunk Lou was something he wasn't used to, and sharing his sad story with him right now didn't seem like a good idea.

“That's good, man, that's good,” the older man went on, oblivious to his friend's struggle. ‘Cause on that roof, man, at the pier… man, you couldn't keep him still.”

Steve's head shot up at the unexpected words. He didn't know much about what his team had done during those six long hours he'd spent in the sensory deprivation tank. No one liked to talk about that, least of all him. It was another page he wished he could just scrap from the book of his life. 

Knowing his partner, that long wait must've been hell. Danny worried about everyone he cared about in a desperate attempt to protect them from harm. Steve knew that, and yet even after all these years, the man's affection and loyalty to him were still a surprise.

He downed the rest of his whiskey and lowered his gaze. 

“Want another one?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, and both men fell silent until the young waitress came back with another round. 

Lou ran one finger around the rim of his glass. “You gotta stop putting your life in danger, man, because I…we can't bear to lose any more people we care about.”

Steve tensed, unsure of what to do. Alcohol usually brought out words and feelings people wouldn't dare voice out loud when they were sober and the conversation was veering into unwanted territory, making him uncomfortable, which on top of his current predicament was the last thing he needed. 

“Lou…” he tried.

“I know, man, I know…” the older man replied, following his own train of thought as if Steve hadn’t even spoken and completely misinterpreting the signals his friend was sending. “But there’s times… like seeing you on that plane…all that blood…I thought you was dead for sure.”

Lou’s words hit home and Steve froze. His friend's brain had now taken him back in time to another incident, to that fateful day where his own life had changed. Three gunshot wounds, a liver transplant and countless medications later here he was, nursing a drink in an anonymous joint, trying to get himself out of the awkward situation he'd landed himself into in a sad attempt to escape an even more complicated one.

“I'm fine, man, don't worry,” he said, finishing his second whiskey. It was more of a reassurance to himself than the former SWAT leader, who nodded solemnly at the statement. His gaze was focused somewhere ahead of him, as if he was watching a scene unfold before his very eyes. “You should’ve seen him… He was beside himself with worry.”

“He was?” Steve asked, genuinely surprised to hear he’d been the cause of Danny’s distress. 

Lou gave him a _‘you’ve got to be kidding me’_ look and took another sip of his liquor. “Trust me, he was all over the place. Barking orders, yelling at the paramedics, completely disregarding is own safety. He grilled that guy Dae Won for information and got the name of his handler in less than five minutes. Never seen anything like it.” 

Steve sat there, stunned, hearing for the first time what had happened after his partner had landed the plane. It was something he and Danny had never discussed. The few times he had tried to push for answers he’d barely gotten a word or two out of him so he had willingly dropped the issue, not too eager himself to hear the details of one of the worst days of his life.

Knocking back the rest of his drink, Grover stared at him with inquiring eyes. “What, you don’t know about it?”

“No, man, I... He never told me.” 

“Mmmm…” The older man let out a sound that was half growl and half sigh and raised an eyebrow at him, then started again. “When we got you out of the plane and saw you like that, we knew it was bad… Took four paramedics to stabilize you and rush you to Tripler with a code three. Now, Danny, he had busted ribs of his own, cuts and bruises, but he refused all medical help.” He rubbed the palms of his hands in circles over his tired eyes. “Soon as we got you there he went right back out, straight to HQ to question that son of a bitch. He had this look in his eyes…” he let his words trail off, looking away as if suddenly ashamed.

The waitress stopped by again, and they asked for two beers. Steve put the bottle to his lips, tilting his head back and chugging half of it down.

“That day I realized he’d do anything for you. Just ask the guy who shot you…”

Steve’s chest tightened. “What you mean?”

Grover stilled, staring at the confused look on Steve’s face and realizing he had no idea Danny had almost blown the guy’s brains off. It was surprising to learn how little the Jersey native had shared with his partner about that awful day and, despite the alcohol clouding most of his judgement, he decided not to add anything more.

“Nothing. Just sayin’ I understand him a lot better now… since that day. And I respect whatever relationship you two have going on.” He picked up his bottle, realizing it was empty, and waved it around to get the waitress’ attention. “Hey, I’m ready for another,” he said when she met his gaze.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, man.”

“It’s alright, brother. Took a cab here, I’ll take another.” 

Steve nodded, satisfied that his friend wouldn’t be driving himself home. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, covering his face with his hands.

“What happened to your hands?" Lou asked, noticing the cuts and bruises on his knuckles.

“Nothing,” the former SEAL shrugged.

“Nothing... Looks like the same nothing you get every time your fists happen to connect with someone's face...”

Steve's eyes narrowed, and Lou took that as a not-so-subtle hint to drop the issue. He slid out of the booth and stood up, swaying slightly as he did so. “I'm gonna hit the head.”

As soon as he walked away, Steve sighed and closed his eyes, knowing it was time to leave and dreading it at the same time. Now that the anger for what Mary had said to him had worn off, he realized he should've never left her alone. Reaching for his pocket, he dug out his cell phone and dialed her number, listening as it rang once, twice, three times. 

“Come on, Mare... pick up.”

Five, six times.

Nothing.

He got to his feet and tried again, tossing a wad of bills on the table to cover all their drinks as he started to leave.

Still no answer.

“What’s up?” Lou asked, coming back from the men’s room.

Steve mumbled a ‘later’ and headed for the door, already focused on his sister and why she wasn’t answering her phone. He hurried to his truck and slid into the seat as a rush of images and possibilities filled his mind. Pressing hard on the accelerator, he swung away from the curb and disappeared into the night, praying it wasn't too late to make up for another mistake.

 

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for the kudos and comments. I appreciate you guys trusting me with this new journey, and I’ll do my best not to disappoint. For plot purpose, I needed Steve gone and away from the house for a few hours so even though he may not have left his sister alone with someone he considered a threat, I hope what I have done here works.
> 
> Let me know what you think about it, reviews fuel my creativity and make me write faster!
> 
> Unbetaed, so all grammar mistakes are mine.

***

The first thing Steve noticed was the harsh red and blue glow of the emergency vehicles parked haphazardly in front of his house. Driving closer, he counted two RMPs, an unmarked sedan that was probably a detective's car and the CSU van along with the familiar shape of Danny’s Camaro.

His heart froze at the thought that something had happened to his sister and niece.

_I should have never left them alone. God, I'm sorry..._

He stopped in the driveway, parking behind one of the cruisers. His hands were shaking as he cut the engine and got the keys out of the ignition, the guilt he'd been feeling for the last few hours suddenly raging back up inside him. Forcing himself out of the truck he started to walk on unsteady legs towards the front porch, his feet pounding into the ground in tune with his heart thumping even louder in his chest. 

He had failed her. He'd failed her the one time she needed him the most.

One of the officers, a rookie he'd never seen before, spotted him and immediately informed him that the area was a crime scene and that he wasn't allowed inside. Steve was about to tell him to go to hell when the front door opened and Danny came out of the house.

“Danny!” he called, storming past the uniform.

The young man, obviously unaware that he was talking to the head of Five-0, made an attempt to follow him but the blond detective held up one hand, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“Where is she?”

Danny met him at the bottom of the stairs and grabbed his arm to slow him down.

“Steve, wait...”

“She alright?” he asked, a look of sheer panic in his eyes.

Danny swallowed hard. “We don't know.”

Steve flinched as if hurt, blinking in disbelief. “You don't know?” His voice came out harsher than he'd intended, and several heads turned around. “What you mean you don't know?”

“She's not here,” Danny replied uncomfortably.

“Why? What happened?” he asked, searching his friend’s features for clues. His throat constricted, dread quickly flowering into full-blown terror.

“Buddy, I don’t think...”

“Please, Danny...” His face had drained of all color, and the distress in his expression made Danny’s heart ache.

“There’s a body inside,” he finally admitted.

This time, when Steve twisted out of his grasp and hurried inside, frantically looking around as he moved, Danny didn't stop him, following him instead through the open door. 

He found the answer he was looking for as soon as he reached the doorway.

Anthony Morris was lying on his back on the floor in the middle of the living room, arms splayed to the side. His head was turned awkwardly, lips slightly parted as if in surprise, eyes closed. Blood had pooled around him from a gunshot wound to the chest, turning the wooden flooring into a dark, deep black.

Shock froze Steve into place as he took in the scene in front of him, recalling the argument he had witnessed just a few hours before. Could it have escalated into a fight and the fight into... murder? He hadn’t been away that long. What the hell had happened? Had he tried to hurt Mary again and forced her to kill him in self-defense? But why run away?

_Why didn't she call_ , he wondered as tears started to well up in his eyes.

“DOA. There was nothing we could do for him.” Danny’s voice seemed to come from far away as he stared at the lifeless body of the man who had threatened to take his sister away.

“Joanie?” he asked in a whisper.

“She's alright. Slept through the whole thing. She's at home with my kids, very excited to have a sleepover.”

Steve nodded, feeling the grip on his heart lessen a bit. “What happened?”

Danny glanced at him for a long moment, his eyes full of concern. “911 got two phone calls about shots fired around 1:00am. When the first unit got here, they found him like that. Front door was wide open and Mary was already missing.”

_Missing…_

The more he wrapped his mind around this, the more he was convinced it had been an act of pure desperation.

But how? 

Mary didn't have access to weapons. Unless... 

“Shit,” he muttered. He'd gotten out of bed without even thinking about his gun. Then his sister had asked him to leave.

_Shit, shit, shit._

She was accusing the guy of something, but he hadn't been able to understand what the argument was about. Could he have upset her enough to trigger this kind of reaction?

Steve knew the answer to that question. Mary Ann McGarrett wasn't a saint, and her temper had caused no small share of trouble in the past. Half of her run-ins with the law had been caused by fights _she_ had started, half of her bruises resulting from blows she'd landed rather than received. That of course didn't give the bastards she'd partnered herself with over the years the right to hurt her back, but that was another story.

As he wondered again why she had left without saying a word, he realized his lack of verbal response to her predicament had been just as effective as a dismissal.

He'd basically implied he didn't care if Anthony hurt her again.

That's why she'd felt leaving was the only option.

_Where are you, Mare?_

The thought that she was hiding somewhere —scared, alone, possibly hurt, made his stomach tighten with fear.

He had to find her.

But first of all, he had to make sure his assumption was right. And if it turned out she'd had no other choice than to kill him he would take care of it like he should've done in the first place.

Danny suppressed a sigh as he looked at his best friend. He could only begin to imagine how he felt. The only way he could help him right now was being there for him and finding out what had happened, and he fully intended to do both. 

“Who is this guy, Steve?”

“I have no idea, man,” he admitted, his eyes clouded with confusion and fear. “I was sleeping upstairs and the next thing I know there’s voices downstairs and I find this guy arguing with my sister.” His hand brushed across his mouth as he drew his brows together pensively. “She never mentioned him to me. Not once, and now I find out they have some kind of history together...”

The raw, pained expression on his partner’s face made Danny’s heart ache.

“He hurt her, Danny. He hurt her and I didn't even know it. I think she came back to Hawaii to get away from him and he followed her here. Said he wanted to take her back to LA.” He looked at the floor, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I don't know what he was up to, and frankly I don't even care. The bastard got what he deserved.”

“Well, isn't that an interesting statement?” HPD Detective Jimmy Kao spoke up as he suddenly materialized behind them, followed by Sergeant Duke Lukela. “Be careful what you say, Commander. Wouldn't want you to be the prime suspect in one of my murder investigations.”

Danny glared at him. “Easy, easy, Kao. No one's a suspect here.”

“We'll see about that,” the Asian man shrugged. “One thing I learned about cases like this, ninety-nine times out of a hundred the killer's a partner or a spouse.” He took a few steps forward and slipped on his glasses, leafing through his notepad. “No sign of forced entry, no indication of a struggle. Back door's still locked from the inside.” 

“Why are you here?” Steve asked in annoyance. “Five-0 will take care of this.”

“I don't think so, McGarrett. You're personally involved and no one on your team will be objective enough to handle this case.” He glanced around, taking in the pristine condition of the room that was a stark contrast to the violent death Morris had suffered. “Do you know what happened here?”

“We had a fight.”

“You and the victim?”

“Yeah.” Steve crossed his arms over his chest, showing no emotion. “I was upstairs, heard my sister arguing and came down to see what was going on.”

“Then what?”

“I got a little carried away.” 

Danny glanced at his friend's hands, noticing for the first time how red and chafed his knuckles were. 

Kao bent forward to take a closer look at the body, examining the matching bruises on Anthony's body. “Point-blank shot to the heart. He was dead before he hit the ground.” His eyes fixed on Steve as if to challenge him. “Looks like an execution to me. So, how carried away did you actually get?”

“Hey!” Danny warned.

“Back off, Detective. I'm just doing my job. He said they got into a fight, I was just asking if—” He saw Steve move out of the corner of his eye. “And where do you think you're going?”

“Upstairs.”

“I'm not done with you.”

“I don't care.” 

“You don't wanna mess with me, Commander.” the Detective replied, his voice rising slightly. “That attitude is not gonna help you or your sister so I suggest you stay right here and answer my questions.”

Steve sighed and turned around. “Look, man, all I care about right now is my sister. Let me just check if something's missing, alright?”

Kao pursed his lips, considering his request. “I'm gonna need to take you in for questioning.”

“That's fine. Let me take a quick look and we'll go down to the station in a minute.” 

“Alright,” the other man nodded, dismissing him with a hand gesture. “But don't mess up my crime scene.”

Danny watched his partner head up the stairs and started after him, hoping his presence and silent support would somehow comfort him as he struggled to stand up after yet another blow. Having gone through as much crap as anyone could take, he was already worried about how much the stress of this new predicament was going to affect him.

Steve paused at the top as if to gather his thoughts, then stepped inside his sister's bedroom. It was a mess; the same mess he'd been used to since they were kids. Mary had never been a neat, organized person, and her room mirrored the same chaos running through her head. As he stood there, inhaling her scent, he felt his emotions rise up again.

Guilt eating at him, he placed one hand on the wall and closed his eyes, bowing his head. He seemed to jump from one mess right into another. Would Fate ever give him a break?

A moment later, he felt Danny's presence at his side and quickly straightened up, rubbing his tired face.

“Don't worry, I didn't touch anything.”

“Steve, that's not what I-” He brushed past him and disappeared into the hallway without giving Danny a chance to reply. “Steve!”

The blond detective shook his head, discarding his reaction as a stress-induced outburst. They occasionally lashed out at each other when they were hurt or upset, said things they didn't mean and regretted it a minute later. He himself had been guilty of it plenty of times but at the end of the day, they were always there for each other. 

BFFs, they'd joked.

Best friends forever.

Danny had never labeled what he and Steve had, never tried to diminish with words the bond that kept them together. He didn't need to. Steve was the most important person in his life right after Grace and Charlie, and he knew it was the same for him.

Sighing, he decided to allow him a few moments of privacy and took out his phone to send a quick text to Grace to ask if things were okay. She replied a moment later with a picture of Charlie and Joanie asleep in the racing car bed that made Danny's lips curve into a smile. 

He wanted to believe Mary wasn't in danger, that Anthony had been killed by a random act of another worthless thug, something they could easily solve without long-term consequences, but he knew better than that. 

_“…Ninety-nine times out of a hundred the killer's a member of the family.”_

What if Kao was right? 

He refused to accept the possibility. It would completely destroy Steve.

Walking back towards the stairs, he spotted his friend inside his bedroom. He was standing by the bed, his back to him, shoulders hunched over. Danny couldn't see his hands but he appeared to be holding something.

“Find anything?”

Steve jumped. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't heard him come in.

His fingers curled around the empty holster he'd found inside the drawer of his nightstand. He clearly remembered putting his gun there like he did every night before falling asleep, which meant Mary must've come upstairs to retrieve it after he’d left. 

Tears welled up in his eyes, his heart aching at the thought of what his sister had been forced to endure, and he cursed himself for the millionth time for not being there to spare her all this.

“Steve?”

Danny's voice brought him back to the present. 

“No,” he replied without turning around.

“We'll find her.”

“Yeah,” he nodded unconvincingly as he placed the holster back inside the drawer.

“You ready to go back downstairs?”

Steve finally met his gaze and they shared a long look. “She doesn't deserve this, Danny,” he whispered hoarsely. “Not after everything she's been through.”

“It'll be alright, Steve. I promise.”

Steve wished he could believe that. Nothing would ever be alright, not for a long time, but he knew how to make things at least a bit better.

In the living room, Dr. Noelani Cunha had already finished her preliminary exam and they were getting the body ready for transport. Steve saw Anthony’s limp arm dangling off the stretcher as they lifted him, and once again anger threatened to take over. 

He wanted to reach out and yank the son of a bitch off that stretcher, shake life back into him and ask him why he had hurt his sister, why he'd showed up right when things seemed to finally going their way and messed everything up. He had so many questions that demanded answers, answers that had died with him and that he wouldn't find until they located Mary and listened to her side of the story.

“I'm gonna need your weapon,” Detective Kao stated, coming to stand in front of Steve and blocking his view of the body. “And a list of places your sister could have gone.”

“Just leave her out of this.”

“Are you telling me how to do my job, Commander?” the Asian man inquired, hands on his hips.

“You don't need her.”

“That's not for you to decide.”

“She's got nothing to do with this!” Steve snapped, drawing Danny's attention. The Jersey native put the cell phone he had just retrieved back into his pocket and moved closer.

“How do you know that?” Kao pressed.

Silence filled the room for a moment as all eyes fixed on the Five-0 leader, waiting for an answer.

Steve's gaze didn't waver as he looked at them.

“I killed him.” 

 

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, I like to be evil sometimes, although taking the blame for killing the guy is something I believe Steve would do in a heartbeat if it meant keeping someone he cares about safe. This said, that doesn’t mean he’s happy about it. 
> 
> Thanks again for all the comments. Will try and post two chapters this week so you're welcome to encourage me with your opinions on the story. I seem to be experiencing a writing frenzy and am working on two more projects that I can’t wait to share with you. 
> 
> Still don’t own anything but a plane ticket to Hawaii… :)

***

Danny exhaled loudly and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he scrubbed at his tired face.

The night had started out bad and gone downhill fast without any warning and here he was, in a nondescript office on the first floor of the HPD Station House, trying to talk his partner out of taking the fall for something he hadn't done.

Hearing Steve say that he'd killed Anthony Morris had almost knocked him out of balance. Then, in the few seconds of awkward silence that had followed, he'd caught on the lie behind his words.

It couldn't be true.

He had seen the terror in his eyes as he searched the house for clues, the shock freeze him in his tracks upon finding the body. He'd heard the anguish in his voice as he begged him to tell him what happened. 

You just can't fake that.

He was lying to protect his sister, sacrificing himself out of guilt for not being there to prevent whatever he thought she'd gone through. 

Danny knew Steve would do anything for Mary, and the thought scared the hell out of him. Years ago, he'd gone on a hunt for the people that had kidnapped her, ready to lose his job and do whatever was necessary. Now, he was willing to spend the rest of his life in prison, and there was apparently no way to convince him otherwise.

_Damned him, his stubbornness, and his self-sacrificing instincts._

Glancing at his watch, he realized they'd been sitting there for over an hour. No wonder Kao had taken a break.

“What the hell is the matter with you, huh?” he cried out. This was the first chance he’d gotten at being alone with his partner since they’d left the house and damned if he wasn’t going to use it to knock some sense into him. “What’s going on in that head of yours? How can you possibly think this is a good idea? Because let me tell you something, it is not, not even _close_ in the history of all ideas!”

Steve stared down at his feet, avoiding his gaze like he'd done since the other man had left the room, his mouth set in a tight line.

“There’s gonna be no letter from the Governor this time, you understand?” he tried again. “This… this is serious, and it’s real!” 

When it became clear begging wouldn’t work either, Danny moved onto something else.

“How are you gonna help Mary if you end up in jail?”

Steve’s head instinctively shot up, a flicker of panic clouding his features.

Danny sensed that the question had drawn his attention and pushed the issue, hoping to get through to him before the detective got back. “You're the only family she's got left. How do you think that's gonna make her feel, huh? And what about Joanie? Are you going to give up on that little girl before you even have a chance to be there for her?”

Steve glared at him, his jaw working as he held back what he wanted to say. It was the only way. Didn't he see that? Wouldn't he do the same thing if it was Grace or Charlie? He could deal with Mary being mad at him, but he certainly couldn't live with the thought of her sitting behind bars.

Crossing his arms over his chest he stared defiantly at his friend, not speaking for at least another full minute. When he did, it was just to reaffirm his intentions. “I told you, I got nothing to say. The less you know, the better.” 

Danny closed his eyes again, feeling the beginning of a headache slowly working its way inside his skull. Frustration seeping through his bones, he leaned forward and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I was there, remember? I _know_ you didn't do it. Please don't do this to yourself.”

“I was just worried, is all,” Steve shrugged. “It's a done deal. Morris is dead, he got what he deserved. Case closed.”

“The GSR test came back negative,” Danny offered to further prove his point, his voice strained with concern.

“I showered.”

“You showered. Was that before or after you let your sister walk away?”

“Leave me alone, Danny.” Steve's teeth were so tightly clenched his words were hard to make out.

Unable to sit still any longer, Danny sighed and rose from his chair, moving to stand by the window. He had run out of arguments, and his partner hadn't budged an inch. He'd tried anger, he'd yelled, he'd begged. What else could he possibly say?

His gaze landed on a group of three prisoners waiting in line to be escorted to Halawa, traveling from the shackles bounding their wrists and ankles to their defeated postures and the emptiness of their gazes.

The thought of seeing the same haunted look on his best friend's face sent a chill creeping up his spine.

He couldn't let it happen.

He _wouldn't_ let it happen.

“Steve, think about this. Going to prison is a suicide! Let me remind you what happened the last time you got locked up: you got shanked! Want that to happen again? Or god knows what else?”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, and for a split second it looked like he was about to tell him everything, blurt out every single fact. And he probably would have if Detective Kao hadn't returned to the room, a cup of coffee in hand. 

“Story's already all over the news,” he said, shaking his head as he sat behind his desk. “Damn vultures can smell these things a hundred miles away.”

He slipped on his glasses and turned to Steve. “Do you want a lawyer?”

“No.”

Danny gave him one last, pleading look, but what he saw reflected in his partner’s deep blue eyes only confirmed his dead-set intention to go along with his crazy plan.

_Shit._

“Alright, I need to hear it again. From the beginning.”

“Why? I already told you everything I know.”

Kao's temper flared up. “Are you kidding me? What I've heard so far is just a bunch of useless crap. You of all people should know how this works. I need dates, times, a motive, and a detailed account of the facts. Don't like it, I don't give a damn. Welcome to the other side of the justice system.”

Steve ran his fingers through his short hair. If he was going to stick with this version of the truth, he might as well start getting used to the attitude.

“Alright.”

“Now, you said you heard Mr. Morris and your sister argue. About what?”

“I have no idea. I only heard a few words.”

“But you knew they were arguing.”

“Yes.”

“Commander, does your sister have a history of abuse?”

Steve hung his head. “Not exactly. But she's had a few questionable relationships in the past.”

“So she likes to go looking for trouble,” Kao snickered.

Steve shot up from his chair. “What'd you say?”

Danny bit his bottom lip. He'd been following the exchange from his position near the window, and had to physically restrain himself from walking up to the Detective and punching him in the face. He settled instead for a warning glare and walked over to Steve, putting a reassuring hand on his arm and guiding him back down to his seat. Then, once reassured that no one would resort to physical harm, himself included, he pulled up a chair from a nearby desk and sat down next to his friend.

“How would you describe your relationship with your sister?” Surprisingly enough, Kao seemed to heed his warning and softened his tone a little.

“She's… Mary lives in LA. My father sent us away to the mainland when we were kids and we didn't see each other for over a decade. She came back on the island after his death and we've… we've been closer ever since.”

The detective nodded, jotting down information on his notebook.

Danny leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs, lowering his head. He could tell that even after all these years, John McGarrett’s decision still haunted his son and sharing the painful details was like pouring salt into an open wound.

“So you two are close now?” 

“Yes.”

“And yet you didn't know that she was seeing Mr. Morris.”

“No.”

“So maybe you aren't as close as you think?”

Steve fiddled nervously with the hem of his shirt. “I don't know.”

Kao banged his fist on the desk. “Don't play dumb with me, McGarrett. You know exactly what I'm talking about!”

“I don't know what to tell you, alright?” the Five-0 leader snapped. “She never mentioned him to me. Wanna know why, you gotta ask her!”

“Alright. So you came downstairs to see what was going on. Then what?”

“I told Morris to get out of the house.”

Danny couldn't help noticing the dangerous glint in his partner’s eyes every time he talked about the dead man. He could only guess what had happened between the two and knowing Steve, it had probably involved his superSEAL glare, a few threats and some well-deserved punches.

“Where were they?”

“Living room.”

“Did Mr. Morris say what he was doing there?”

Steve folded his arms across his chest. “Yes. He said he wanted to take her and Joanie back to LA.”

“Did he say why?”

“I didn't ask. We had a fight, I pulled out my gun and shot him," he spat, forcing the words out before he could swallow them back.

“Whoa, hold on a second," Kao said, raising one hand to stop him. Next to him, Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You took your weapon with you downstairs?” He shook his head and turned to Danny. “This doesn't look good. He just admitted premeditation.”

The Jersey native cleared his throat, searching his mind for something to say. “No no no, that’s— that doesn't mean anything. Everyone knows Steve carries his gun everywhere.”

“I don't think the judge’s gonna care about that.”

Danny shook his head. “Come on, Kao, this is ridiculous!”

The Asian detective ignored Danny's remark and focused his attention back to Steve. “What happened to the gun?”

“I tossed it into the canal.”

It was a convenient answer, a fabricated lie that pretty much guaranteed that if needed, the weapon would never be found. Everybody in the room knew that, and it made one detective angry and another even more worried.

As he leaned back in his chair in frustration, Danny noticed Duke Lukela standing in the doorway and nodded at him. Steve followed his partner’s gaze and met the Sergeant’s concerned eyes.

“Duke, any news on Mary?” he immediately asked.

Lukela shook his head. “We’re still looking for her.” The effect of the news on the Commander brought a matching frown on his face. “Don’t worry, Steve,” he added, “the whole watch is out to find her. I’ll let you know the minute we do.”

“Thanks, Duke.”

The Sergeant took a couple of steps forward. “How's it going in here?” he asked Kao.

“Not so good. He says he killed the man to protect his sister.”

Lukela’s frown deepened. A few months back, when Akela had been kidnapped and he’d broken the rules in a desperate attempt to get her back, Steve had supported him without questions. Knowing what kind of man he was, the Sergeant wasn’t buying his story as well. “Any evidence to back that up?”

“Still working on it.”

“Alright, keep me posted,” he said before heading back out. 

Kao nodded and put his glasses back on, studying his notes. A haunting silence enveloped the room as Danny absently stared out the window and Steve continued to sit there unperturbed as if the whole thing wasn’t even bothering him.

He knew what he was doing was right, that he had no choice but step up and fix the mess he'd created. Problem was, he still wasn't sure it was the best way to do it, and the doubts lingering in his head were driving him crazy. 

“Alright, let’s go back to the living room,” the detective started again. “There’s something we’re missing here. Your sister. Was she in the room while you two were fighting?”

“Yeah. She tried to stop me but I wouldn't listen.”

“Figures. If you'd listened to her, you wouldn't be sitting here now.”

Danny rose to his feet. “Hey! Easy, man!” His voice was loud, his temper flaring in stark contrast to Steve’s passive demeanor.

“What? You think this is bad, wait until the prosecutor gets a hold of him!” He huffed and rubbed his hand through his hair. “Go on.”

Steve glared at him. “He was drunk and started screaming at me so I lost my temper and the next thing I remember he was lying on the floor with a bullet in his chest.” He paused for a moment, giving the man a frustrated shake of the head. “Like I said, I got carried away. I was upset, so I left the house to clear my head and figure out what to do next.”

“Where'd you go?”

The former SEAL shrugged. “I drove around. Ended up in a bar, had a few drinks.”

“Do you remember which bar?”

“No.” 

“Don’t lie to me, Commander…” Kao warned.

“I’m not,” he replied, feeling Danny's stare on him but refusing to look his way. He had been trained to withstand interrogation and torture, being questioned by a police detective was supposed to be a walk in the park. 

The Asian man closed his notebook and stood up. “Alright, I think there's enough here to build a case.”

Danny's heartbeat accelerated. This couldn’t be happening. He was not about to watch his best friend get booked and transferred to Halawa. “Shouldn’t we at least wait for the ballistics report?”

Jimmy Kao looked at him as if he’d grown two heads. “Can I talk to you for a second?” He grabbed a legal notepad and placed it in front of Steve. “We’ll be right back. You can start writing your statement.”

Danny sighed and reluctantly followed him outside, closing the door of the office behind him.

“Williams, I hate to say this but I think you’re not being objective here,” he said as soon as they stepped into the hallway.

“What?”

“I think your friendship with McGarrett is clouding your judgement. I let you sit in on this as professional courtesy, but you’re making things worse. Your partner is getting booked whether you like it or not, so you might as well get used to that.”

“This has nothing to do with being objective! He didn’t do it. Alright? He’s taking the fall for his sister and we’re letting him!”

“Listen to me, what we have here is pretty much an open and shut case. He admitted to killing the guy because he beat up his sister and God knows what else. Said he intentionally came downstairs with a gun to stop the fight. What more do you need to know? If it was a perp you would’ve already locked him up and thrown away the key!”

Danny’s anger rose. “I am _telling_ you, Kao. He did _not_ do this.”

“He’s confessed!” the older man said loudly. A few heads turned, and he immediately regretted his tone. “Look, I know you care about him. Hell, he’s a decorated officer, I feel bad about it too, but no judge is gonna let him walk away with this.”

Danny knew that. It was why he had tried to convince Steve to tell the truth.

“Something comes up and proves me wrong you’re more than welcome to bust my chops about it. Until then, he sits in jail thinking about the mistake he’s made.”

The Jersey native swallowed hard. He knew Kao was right, and that if the situation was reversed he would’ve told him the exact same thing. And yet he couldn’t wrap his mind around the possibility that Steve was more than likely going to spend the rest of his life in prison, and the fact that he was powerless to stop it.

He watched him through the glass window for a long moment. Now that in his stubborn, over-complicated mind he had accomplished his mission, his entire body had sagged into the chair as if it was folding in on itself. He looked drained. Beaten. Like when you’ve devoted all of your efforts to one specific task and have no more energy to deal with anything else.

Danny’s eyes watered. This wasn’t fair. Not in the slightest, but if he couldn't stop or delay the arrest he could at least make sure his stay was as comfortable as the prison rules allowed.

“Let's go talk to the boss,” he said briskly before stalking away.

***

In the confined space of the detective’s office, head between his hands, Steve lost track of how much time had passed.

His confused thoughts danced in time with the beats of the clock on the wall behind him, minute after minute, until the door opened again and Danny came back into the room. 

One look at his friend’s contrite face and he realized it was time to go. 

“It's okay, Danny,” he said, wiping his sweaty palms on his shorts. “I'm ready.”

The Jersey native moved closer, his shoulders slumped. “Are you sure?” 

Steve sucked in a breath as he heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Kao and Duke Lukela join them in the office, then blew it out and nodded. “Let's go.”

“It's gonna be hard to sneak him by the press,” the Sergeant said, a note of concern in his voice.

Danny peeked out the window to see that, indeed, the parking lot was beginning to fill up. “That's just great. Isn't there a surfing accident going on somewhere or an MVA they'd rather cover?”

Duke shook his head, the creases of strain on his face making him look older than he actually was. “Take him out the back door. Two of my guys will run interference for you.”

Danny nodded. 

“Go,” the Hawaiian man urged. “I'll try to keep the journalists at bay.”

Steve’s lips curved into a grateful smile. “Thanks, Duke.” 

Detective Kao instinctively reached for the cuffs on his belt, only to be pinned with an icy stare from both Danny and Sergeant Lukela. Raising his hand back up to casually run it through his hair and pretend nothing had happened the man shrugged and walked towards the door, holding it open for them.

“I'll be back,” he told Duke, and followed the two Five-0 members outside.

***

_“I don’t want to go, Steve. Why do we have to go?”_  
_“Dad says it’s not safe for us here.”_  
_“I don’t care. I don’t wanna move to California.”_  
_“There’s nothing we can do about it. I’m sorry.”_  
_“Where are you going?”_  
_“Army and Navy Academy.”_  
_“Where is that?”_  
_“Only a few hours away. I’m sorry, Mare, I don’t like it either.”_  
_“What if I get lonely, Steve? What if I get scared?”_  
_“You’re not gonna be alone. Aunt Deb’s cool, you’re gonna be alright. And I’ll try to call and visit as much as I can, alright?”_  
_“Promise me.”_  
_“I promise.”_  
_“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”_  
_“Mare...”_  
_“Please? I’m afraid.”_  
_“Okay.”_  
_“Thanks. Steve? Promise me we’ll always be together.”_  
_“We will.”_  
_“I love you.”_  
_“Love you too.”_

Steve bolted awake with a gasp and pushed himself up on his hands, breathing heavily.

He stared ahead, blinking his eyes to focus on the unfamiliar setting until he realized where he was. Swinging his legs off the coat he sat there for a while, hands on his face, feeling the air grow tight in the dark, six-by-eight cell.

The fact that his sister was still out there scared him more than his current condition. He’d promised Mary he would always be there for her but had let his job become a priority and put it before everyone else, failing her in the most spectacular way. 

Sighing, he settled his frame back on the lone bunk, staring at the shadowy ceiling and hoping she would forgive him one day. 

***

_“...HPD will be holding a news conference later today about Commander McGarrett’s involvement in the death of a man in Aina Haina last night. The identity of the victim is being withheld at this moment pending further investigation."_

Danny sat on the sofa, a cup of coffee in hand, watching the early morning news report. His bleary eyes and the tired expression on his face spoke of a restless, sleepless night that all the coffee in the world wouldn’t be able to fix. One of the many awaiting him in the future, he figured. 

The sky outside was beginning to brighten. It would be dawn soon, and he dreaded the thought of going through another day and pretending to function while his best friend was locked in a cell. 

After personally escorting Steve to Halawa and considering spending the night in his car outside the facility, he had called Tani and Junior to let them know what was going on, asking them to meet at the office bright and early to try and figure out a way to get their boss out of this mess. He’d tried to reach Lou as well but all his calls had gone to voicemail and he hadn’t had the heart to call the house and wake the whole family up at three in the morning. He’d try again later.

The apartment was silent. Charlie and Joanie were still cuddled together in the boy’s room, and he’d managed to convince Grace to go back to bed not too long ago after promising he would do his best to get her Uncle Steve out of trouble. The terrified expression on her face as she’d pleaded with him to do something had nearly broken his heart and he’d hugged her tight, wishing once again he could shield his children from all the horrors of the world and the cruelty of mankind. She had fallen asleep shortly after that, leaving him alone with the memory of the bleakness in Steve's eyes as the prison guard escorted him to his prison cell.

_“...Sources close to the police force have confirmed that the units dispatched to Commander McGarrett’s house after a 9-1-1 call reporting shots fired found the front door wide open and a man lying on the ground with a single gunshot wound to the chest.”_

He shook his head at the young newscaster. They were like vultures, preying on anyone and anything that could guarantee them a good scoop.

Grabbing the remote, he angrily turned the TV off and rose to his feet, hoping a nice, long shower would take at least some of the weariness away. He was about to head into the bathroom when he heard his phone ring. 

21 kinds of emergencies flashed through his brain as he rushed to grab it, remembering still too vividly the call he’d received six years before informing him that his partner had been stabbed and was on his way to the hospital. The unfamiliar number displayed on the screen did nothing to quell his fears. Had Steve been injured again? Were there new developments in the case?

He swallowed hard and tapped the screen to accept the call, squeezing his eyes shut to close off the mounting panic. “Hello?”

_Nothing._

“Hello?” he repeated. He really didn't have time for this. “Who's there?”

Finally, a shaky voice. “Danny?”

His eyes widened. “Mary?”

 

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As promised, here’s another chapter. Let’s see what Mary has to say and how the story’s going to continue. 
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who took the time to comment on the story, and thank you to everyone who will. Even if it’s just one line, let me know how I’m doing.

***

“Mary? Mary, are you all right?” Danny asked, concern straining his voice. He moved in the semi-dark of the apartment to close the living room door so the kids could sleep undisturbed.

On the other end of the line, silence reigned for a long, tense moment.

“Yeah,” the woman finally replied.

“Where are you?”

“I had to leave, Danny,” Mary chocked out. “I— I just couldn’t stay. You understand that, don’t you?”

He leaned against the wall, running a hand over his tired face. “No, Mary, I don't understand. We were worried about you.”

“…But then I heard on the news that Steve's been arrested and— oh, God, Danny, what have I done?” she cried. “Is it true?”

Danny blew out a long breath. “Yes. He’s in jail. He confessed to the murder.”

“No…” Mary pleaded.

“What happened, Mary? What'd he do?”

“I didn’t want him to get involved, I swear. That’s why I sent him away,” she said quietly, but the heartbreak in her voice was hard to miss. “You have to believe me… He’s the only family I got!”

Danny felt his chest tighten. “Mary, I need you to be honest with me, alright?” he urged. “Did he kill Anthony?” 

The words seemed to hang between them for a while. Danny held his breath, straining to maintain his composure.

“No,” she admitted, just barely loud enough for him to hear. “I did. I killed him.” Her breaths were ragged and rapid over the phone, as if Mary was having trouble drawing air into her lungs. “He—he wanted to…” her throat closed as she tried to finish her sentence. “I had to do it.”

A massive wave of relief crashed over Danny as the implications of what he’d heard registered in his brain. 

_Steve was innocent._

He knew it, could’ve sworn it on his life, but having it confirmed lessened the crushing weight on his chest, allowing him to breathe easier.

“Mary, you have to turn yourself in. I promise you, Steve and I will get you through this, but you need to tell us what happened.”

“I can’t.”

A lump of fear rose in Danny's throat. “Listen to me,” he insisted, starting to lose his temper. He’d heard Steve complain about his sister’s stubbornness many times over the years but had never experienced it firsthand. “Did you hear what I just said? He confessed! If they find him guilty, he’s gonna spend the rest of his life in prison!”

Mary’s breathing was erratic now, the sound of panic catching in her throat.

“You tell them he didn’t do it!”

Danny sighed in exasperation. “It’s not gonna be enough!”

“You tell them, Danny. Please. Please get him out of jail...” 

“Tell me where you are, Mary. I’ll come pick you up.”

“Is Joanie alright?”

“She's with me, she's alright. Mary, you have to—”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, and disconnected the call.

Danny stood there, phone cradled in his hand, mouth half open to utter a reply. Mary had hung up on him, leaving him with a confession that had no legal value, a startling revelation that he would probably be unable to use to get Steve out of jail. 

He placed the phone on the coffee table and closed his eyes, hoping he’d gotten through her before it was too late.

***

“Danny!”

Lou Grover strode across Five-0’s headquarters towards Danny’s office, his baritone voice echoing loudly inside the vast space. Bloodshot eyes, shirt rumpled as if he’d collapsed into bed and dragged himself out of it without even bothering to change, he looked like he’d had a wild night and was regretting every single minute of it. 

He opened the glass door with so much force it rattled. “What the hell happened, man? I heard about McGarrett!”

The blond detective sighed. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Why didn't you call, man? How's he doing?”

Danny fixed him with a disbelieving stare. “Why didn't I— As a matter of fact I did, Lou. I called. Six times. Got your voicemail all six.”

The older man hung his head, guilt flaring inside his chest. He barely remembered getting home and passing out on his couch the night before, the same spot where Renee had found him in the morning. After a long lecture on trust between spouses and the dangers of too much alcohol in a man his age, she'd told him about Steve’s predicament and all but ordered him to get a shower, drink some coffee and do something about it. In the haste to get to the office, he had inadvertently put on the same shirt he’d just discarded and only realized it halfway through his drive to the Palace. “I'm sorry man, alright? I had a rough night.”

Danny stared at him with a look between a scowl and a grimace that said _‘yeah, me too’_ and Lou felt even worse for not being there for his friends. But he was here now, and he intended to do whatever was in his power to help fix this mess. “Well, what are we doing here? We need to do something. Can't have an innocent man sit in jail!”

“You don't think I know that?”

“I mean, murder? What are they, insane? McGarrett didn’t do it!”

“And you know that because?”

“We were together, man. He was with me,” he replied in obvious disconcertment. 

Danny's eyes widened. That was one piece of information he hadn’t expected. “What you mean you were together? When?”

Lou took a few steps forward and sank into the couch in front of Danny’s desk. “We met at a bar last night. Had a few drinks together.”

Leaning back in his chair, Danny absorbed the news. While it was odd that Steve had gone drinking, something he rarely did especially since the transplant, the detail corroborated Mary's version of the story and could be used to clear his name and get him out of Halawa.

“Where? Where did you meet?” 

“Some joint in Waimanalo. He showed up while I was commiserating about my life and drinking myself into stupor.” He closed his eyes and rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. “Got the headache from hell to prove it.”

“How long?” Danny asked.

Lou frowned. “What?”

“How long were you guys together?” 

“An hour. Maybe two,” he replied, scrunching up his face in concentration. He had been pretty wasted and didn’t remember much about the time they'd spent together but decided Williams didn't need to know that.

Danny’s lips curled into a smile. 

Leave it to OG Chicago to clear his best friend of murder. 

Grover's account would help Steve's case considerably, and a simple drive to the bar in question would easily confirm his statement and hopefully drop all charges against him.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, then nodded in unison and headed for the door. Fifteen minutes later, they were standing in Detective Kao’s office. The Asian man regarded them with an annoyed look, arms crossed over his chest. 

“Wanna tell me why I had to drag myself into work at this God-forsaken hour?” he asked. “I didn't even get my coffee!”

Danny bit his lip, pushing the retort he was about to voice back down his throat. _Not now_ , he chastised himself. Not when he needed him on their side. If they managed to get Steve out of jail he would treat him to coffee, malasadas or whatever it was that the man ate for breakfast. Hell, he would even buy him dinner. 

“I got a call from Steve's sister last night.”

The revelation got man's undivided attention.

“Where is she?” he asked.

Danny's shoulders sagged. “I don't know. She hung up before I had a chance to reason with her.”

“Did she tell you what happened?” Kao inquired.

The Jersey native paused, trying to decide just how much to admit without getting Mary into more trouble. 

“Detective Williams?” he pressed.

“She said she shot her ex-partner in self-defense.” 

The lie tripped off his tongue without hesitation, stunning him into silence for a moment. Danny Williams, the kick-ass detective who prided on integrity and believed in the greater good, had just acknowledged that there was more to just black and white in the justice system. 

“ _She_ did it?” Kao asked, surprise spreading across his face. “Damn,” he muttered to himself. Apparently, things were about to take a turn for the worse and he sure didn't wanna be in McGarrett’s place when they found the woman. He shrugged. People never believed he had feelings. He did. Just buried so deep that he usually got tired of looking for them.

“She heard about the arrest on the news and begged me to get her brother out of jail,” Danny explained. “I told her to turn herself in, but I guess she was afraid we'd arrest her too.”

“Smart woman,” the detective stated, pushing his glasses up into his hair.

Danny pinned him with an icy glare.

“What?” he asked, “She is gonna be arrested.”

“I know,” Danny conceded. “As soon as we get Steve out of Halawa we can—”

“Are you kidding me?” Kao interrupted him, wondering if he'd lost his mind. “We're not getting anyone out of anything! We still got no proof to corroborate either story.”

“We have a confession!” Danny snapped.

“Which is totally useless in a court of law. For all I know she's the one covering for him!”

“Oh, for the love of God, did you just hear yourself? That's crazy!” he cried out. “If you don't want to believe her, you're going to believe Captain Grover over here, who spent over two hours last night with Steve at a bar.”

“Seriously? One of his own people covering for him, that's the best you got?”

Lou inched closer and put his hands on his hips, his big frame effectively towering over the diminutive Asian man. “I don't like what you're implying, detective. I've been on the force for over thirty years, you're not questioning my credibility here, are you?” 

“It just seems convenient, is all.”

“Well then go to that damn bar and ask the staff if they remember us! If somebody's lying here that's definitely McGarrett covering for his sister.”

Sensing that Kao wasn't entirely convinced, Danny threw his arms up in frustration. “Listen to me, I'm gonna get him out of there, that's not open for discussion!” he announced before storming out of the office.

“Williams!” the detective called, but Danny was long gone. He turned to Grover, who just chuckled as he shrugged and walked after him.

***

The tray of food lay untouched on the ground.

A cockroach scurried towards it, paused to inspect it for a second and then moved over, disappearing into a crack between the pavement and the wall.

Steve watched the scene from his bunk, knees pulled up to his chest, arms tightly wrapped around his legs. A faint smile touched the corner of his lips.

_Smart move, pal._

He hadn't even bothered to sleep. He knew better than that. He'd mostly stared at the walls, painted a shade of gray that seemed to suck up all the light. 

The words _‘voluntary statement’_ from the investigation report stared back at him in black, bold letters as if they were printed everywhere around him, and he started to wonder if he would survive a week in this place, let alone face the life sentence that his confession would undoubtedly earn him. Maybe ten years ago, his cocky and arrogant self would've breezed through it without a care. Not the man he was today. He just didn't have the strength anymore.

_Please..._

Hopefully God, or whoever was in charge up there, would finally hear him this time. 

He covered his face with his hands. 

He remembered his fingerprints displayed on the computer screen after the booking, the air growing thinner with each step as they led him to his cell, the chill that ran across his spine as his hand ran along the pitted cinder block.

Shaking his head, Steve tried to drown the sound of yet another cell clanking shut and let his eyes roam once again from the stainless-steel toilet and sink to the barred door, down to the insulated plastic tray of inedible food. Of course he loved his sister, and if he had to re-live the moment of sheer desperation in which he'd realized there was no other way out he probably would've done the same thing. Over and over again. That just didn't mean he liked it or didn't wish there was another solution. 

A noise drew him away from his thoughts. Footsteps. His stay had been pretty quiet so far, no doubt courtesy of Danny who had gone out of his league to make sure he wouldn't end up with another scar on his already battered body, and he intended to keep it that way. Ignore everyone, and maybe they'll ignore you. 

“McGarrett,” a voice said. 

_So much for being ignored._

He looked up to see an officer standing on the other side of the bars, a square-shouldered guy with deep-set eyes and a buzz cut. 

“Get up,” the man ordered, knotting his hands together at the buckle of his belt, his expression unreadable. “You're a free man.”

Steve stared at him with shocked, bewildered eyes. Then the door to his cell screeched open and he found himself walking in a daze onto a narrow, gray catwalk. 

For one long, blissful moment, he did not wonder why he was being escorted out of prison or ask himself what had happened in the few hours since he'd last seen Danny. Selfishly enough, he was just glad it was over.

***

Outside, the breeze felt wonderful. It snaked into Steve's lungs, bigger and fresher than the air he’d breathed in jail. He took deep, cleansing breaths and lifted his head upwards. A ray of sunlight filtered through the clouds, soaking his cheeks, and his knees almost buckled under the overwhelming weight of freedom.

He stood still as one second rolled into another, slowly marking the passage of time until he realized that it had started to rain. Mesmerized, Steve held out his hand. A few, fat raindrops landed on his palm. He lifted both arms and closed his eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to spill.

Danny watched him from a distance. Sensing that his friend needed a few minutes to himself, he leaned against the hood of the Camaro with his arms folded against his chest and waited.

“Hey,” Steve whispered when he finally approached him.

Danny smiled at him, opened his mouth to speak and shook his head. He couldn't really ask him how he was doing, could he? “Hey, yourself.” 

Steve wasn't looking at him, gazing instead past the barbed-wire fence that cordoned the facility. “What happened?”

Danny pursed his lips. 

_Where do I start?_

“You hungry?” he asked, hoping to gain some more time to gather his thoughts. 

“Starving,” the Five-0 leader admitted. 

“That's good. Let's go get something to eat and I'll explain you everything.” 

Steve didn't reply. He turned and absently walked to the car, sliding into the passenger seat. 

Danny sighed, concerned about his friend's unusually quiet behavior. Steve had barely said a word since they'd led him out of the building. Was he still processing the whole ordeal or was there more to it? Had something happened in jail? He'd been expecting a rush of questions and yet only one had been asked so far. 

Swallowing hard, he took the keys out of his pocket and climbed inside the Camaro, stealing another glance at his partner who appeared to be staring at the rain, lost in thought. 

He started up the engine and then killed it. 

The silence was getting on his nerves. He needed to say something. 

“Your sister called me,” he finally stated, hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel. 

His words seemed to bring life back into Steve's almost deflated body. He jerked his head up and turned towards him. “She alright?” 

“I think so.” 

Steve desperately wanted to ask him what he knew but couldn't bring himself to say the words, afraid of the truth behind them, so he silently urged his best friend to keep talking. 

“She killed him, Steve,” Danny said almost in a whisper, as clearly as if he'd read his mind. 

The former SEAL went pale as a sheet, the realization hitting him just below the breast-bone with a physical ache that would've made him stumble if he wasn't already sitting. He rested his elbow on the window, leaning his head against his fist, and averted his gaze back to the world outside. 

“Did she... did she say why?” 

Danny shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “It's, uh... It's complicated.” 

“How?” 

It came out almost as a plea, as if he was begging him to help him understand why all of this had happened. He needed to rationalize it, to find out the motive behind the action. That was how he’d been trained to operate. _‘Actions have consequences’_ , Joe White had drilled into his mind. _‘Whether you’re in a battlefield or in the safety of your own house. Be prepared at all times. Gather up your intel and execute your plan.’_

In this case, he had no intel to work with and no plan to execute. 

He felt lost, unhinged, with no purpose other than staring into his best friend’s eyes searching for a truth he wasn’t even sure he was ready to handle. 

“She, uh... she said she had to do it,” Danny explained, feeling the desperation in Steve’s tone and wishing he could do more to help. “That she didn’t want you to get involved, and that’s why she sent you away.” 

Steve’s face paled even more as he digested each word, his whole body flinching as if he’d been hurt. Mary had wanted to protect _him_. The irony of his baby sister doing what he should have done in the first place wasn’t lost on him and he inhaled sharply, taking a moment to gather himself together. 

“It’s gonna be alright, you hear me?” Danny promised, sliding a hand onto his partner’s thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna find her, and we’re gonna help her through this.” 

Steve nodded unconvincingly, the rush of blood to his ears muting his friend’s words to a mere background noise. He felt like he was going to explode, his growing anger and the overwhelming desire to hurt something— someone, so intense he needed to unleash it. _Now_. 

He got out of the car before he could stop himself and slammed the passenger door shut. For a moment he simply stood there, hands balled tightly at his sides, staring up towards the sky as if begging for an answer from above. Then he raised a fist and Danny instinctively shrank in his seat, fearing it would connect with the hood or worse, the window. But nothing happened. The arm stilled in midair until it dropped to his side again and he leaned both hands on the hood, lowering his head and focusing on taking long, deep breaths to slow his heart back to a normal rhythm. 

_Get a grip, McGarrett_. 

There was no time to dwell on his own feelings. He had to find Mary and help her out of this mess. The sooner, the better. He would deal with the rest later. 

When he slid back into his seat, Danny saw tears shimmering on his lashes. Steve dashed them away with a quick swipe of his hand, unwilling to reveal the depth of his pain more than he already had. 

“Where is she?” he asked in a whisper. 

“I don't know. I offered to pick her up, but she ended the call before she could give me an answer. I'm sorry, man. I know this is hard for you. If there's anything that I can do or anywhere you'd like to be...” 

“Where I'd like to be, Danny,” he admitted in a broken voice, “is a few years back. But I guess that's just not possible, right?” 

There it was. That lost look that always broke Danny's heart. 

“Can you drive me home? I need to, uh...” 

“Of course.” Danny buckled his seatbelt and brought the engine to life. And once again, killed it. “Steve, there's something else you need to know.” He lowered his gaze, unsure of how he'd react. “I told Kao she shot him in self-defense.” 

Steve stared at him as he let the words register in his brain. Danny was offering his sister a get-out-of-jail free card. His anger quickly turned to disbelief and then appreciation for the risk he'd taken. 

How do you respond to that? 

Unable to trust his words he held his friend’s gaze, doing his best to convey all his feelings like they’d both done countless times in the past. 

Danny nodded, acknowledging the gratitude in Steve’s eyes. 

Distraught by worry and everything that had happened in the last 24 hours, he’d barely had time to process what he’d done, but as the words replayed in his head he marveled once again at the ease with which he’d spoken them. 

_‘She said she shot her ex-partner in self-defense.’_

He’d do anything for Steve. 

No question asked. 

There might even be some truth behind his statement. Mary was obviously distraught and afraid for her and Joanie’s life when she’d shot Morris. And yet he had to admit to himself that pre-McGarrett Danny would have never lied to cover a crime. 

NJPD Detective Williams would have stuck to the truth, no matter what. 

***

“I need to find her, Danny.” 

“I know you do. Call me if you need anything.” 

Steve told him he would, thanked him for taking care of Joanie and stepped out of the car. Danny's eyes followed him until he disappeared inside the house. For a few minutes he sat there with the engine running and the wiper blades sweeping back and forth, then he pressed the accelerator and drove the Camaro around the corner and to the parking lot of the Lutheran Church right next to the property. 

TBC 


	5. Chapter 5

***

_Detective Kao found him in Lukela’s office, phone pressed to his ear. “Williams! What the hell do you think you're doing?”_

_Danny didn't acknowledge him or give any indication that he'd even heard him._

_“Put down the damn phone!”_

_“What?” he asked, glaring at him as he ended the call and put his cellphone back into his pocket._

_“What is your problem?”_

_“What is_ my _problem?”_

_“Hey, I'm not the one who just made a fool out of himself in front of the Sergeant here!" He countered, barely keeping the anger out of his voice. “Your boy McGarrett signed a confession. His fingerprints are all over the place, scratches on his hands match the dead guy's wounds. They're not gonna let him walk unless we can produce new evidence, or another suspect.”_

_Danny shook his head. Jimmy Kao wasn't going to cut him any slack, not to mention let a murderer off the hook just because he was his partner, or in this case, his partner’s sister._

_“I know he’s your partner and all but—”_

_“My boy,” Danny hissed, matching the other man’s irate tone, “is a decorated Navy SEAL. Show some respect!”_

_The detective held up his hands in surrender. “Alright, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. But you’re crossing the line here and, Sergeant, I don’t want this case to get screwed because he’s unable to think straight.”_

_“Steve doesn't belong in jail, alright? Duke? You know that as much as I do. And I'm getting him out of there, whether you like it or not!”_

_Kao stared at him, a frown on his face. “Why do you think you owe him?”_

_“Because I do!” Danny snapped, throwing his arms out in frustration. “He’s my partner. My best friend. He’s a self-sacrificing son of a bitch who got radiation poisoning just to keep me safe. It’s the least I can do...” He lowered his head, almost ashamed by the sudden outburst. “He’s innocent, and he’s throwing his life away. Someone needs to stop him, and if you’re not doing it I will!”_

_The Asian detective sat down in one of the chairs in front of Lukela’s desk and handed the Sergeant a manila folder. “ME’s report on Morris,” he informed them. “No post-mortem surprises. The slug to the chest is the cause of death. Alcohol level's 0.16%. I'm not surprised he wasn't cooperative.” A beat passed, and he turned to face Danny. “There might be a way to sort this thing out, but I don’t think you're gonna like it.”_

_“We let McGarrett out of the joint and track his phone. Or, we put a tail on him and wait. Either way, he's gonna lead us to his sister.”_

_“No way.”_

_“You wanna help him out, Williams, that's the only way. If he's really got nothing to do with this, I'm sure he'll understand.”_

Like hell, _Danny thought to himself._

_He’d sworn never to lie to Steve or go behind his back and he wasn’t about to start now._

_“Do_ not _involve me in this, you hear me?” he admonished, pointing an angry finger at the man’s chest. “I want no part in your stupid plan!”_

_Kao shook his head in annoyance and rose from his chair. “I’m warning you, detective, you let McGarrett in on this and I’m personally going to have your badge. Don’t care if you’re one of the Governor’s golden boys!”_

_Danny shrugged, unfazed by the threat. “We’ll see about that.”_

***

Steve turned the doorknob to his house with the kind of hesitancy of someone who was afraid of the memories that would come at him once he got inside.

The silence that assaulted him once he stepped in the doorway almost threatened to overtake his frazzled nerves and he closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath before walking into the living room. Moving to his left, he reached for the lamp next to the couch and turned it on.

As the room came to life under the soft, yellow glow, his gaze came to rest upon the large stain marking the carpet just between the recliner and the coffee table.

The blood was now almost two days old, and he frivolously thought it would be a bitch to clean. But even the best detergents would never fully erase what had happened, because the air itself felt permanently imprinted with fear.

Decades of violence, starting with his mother’s fake death and his father’s murder, had marked his soul as well as the cream-painted walls and the wooden flooring despite his numerous attempts to compartmentalize it all.

The thought of his father brought a new wave of sad, unpleasant memories. His gruesome death was still an open wound that would probably never heal. Not a single day had passed by since that fateful day that he hadn't thought of him, wondering if he too had felt alone in this big house after sending them away, or if he’d ever been proud of him and his accomplishments.

Realizing that he'd been absently rubbing his fingers against the transplant scar on in his chest, Steve averted his eyes from the bloodstain and walked up the stairs, ignoring the headache and the light dizziness he was experiencing. With all the commotion he'd forgotten to take his anti-rejection meds, which was probably why he felt nauseous and his hands were shaking.

After swallowing his prescriptions with a mouthful of water and taking a much-needed shower, he quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt and went back to the living room. Sitting down on the couch, he leaned back against the cushions, closing his eyes. Just for a minute, he thought to himself, until the medicine kicked in.

He awoke to a terrible headache a short while later. And that was in the two-second reprieve before he remembered where he was and what had happened.

Then he focused on the loud shrill coming from his pocket. His cell phone. 

“McGarrett.”

“Steve?”

Steve jumped to his feet. “Mare?” 

“Oh, god, Steve, are you all right?” Mary's voice on the other end of the line sounded scared and upset.

He pressed the phone hard to his ear. “Mary, where are you?”

“I just... I needed to hear your voice, make sure you were safe.” 

Steve clasped the back of his neck and closed his eyes. “I am. I'm okay, but I need to know where you are.”

The young woman, lost in her own thoughts, completely ignored his plea. “I'm so sorry, I never meant for you to get involved in this,” she said between sobs. “I never meant for you to go to jail.”

“Mare...” Steve's heart ached for the pain his sister was going through.

“Will you please forgive me?”

“Mary, listen to me! I do, I forgive you. Just hear me out, okay? We don't have much time. HPD’s looking for you, and if they find you before I do you're the one who's gonna end up in jail. I need to know where you are. Please. Let me help you.” 

Mary seemed to ponder what to do for a moment before finally giving in. “Pacific Marina Inn. Room 16."

“Alright, it’s alright, I’ll be right there,” he reassured her, relief seeping through his voice.

“Okay.”

He heard a siren in the background. “Are you in your room?”

“No. There's a payphone just outside.”

_No no no no_

“Listen to me, go to your room. Now. You hear me? Lock the door and do _not_ open it until I get there.”

“Okay," she repeated, nodding her head as if her brother could see her. “Steve?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Mare. Just—just wait for me, alright?”

Steve ended the conversation and put the phone back into his jeans pocket, hurrying outside. When the front door closed behind his back he was already sliding in the driver’s seat of the Silverado, the headache now just a distant thought. 

He jammed on the gas and the silver truck roared to life, spun out and headed west towards its destination.

In his haste to get to the motel, he failed to notice the familiar car sitting around the corner. 

***

_“He just left,”_ a flat voice stated through the police scanner.

_“Don't lose him. I'm on my way,”_ came Kao’s immediate reply.

Danny scowled as she watched Steve's truck speed past him. Despite his refusal, the son of a bitch was going through with his plan to tail his partner in hope he would lead them to Mary. 

He knew it would happen, and that’s why he’d stayed close to Steve’s house. 

Straightening in his seat, he turned on the car and started after him, hoping to beat the detective and get there first.

 

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: If you’ve recovered from the winter finale, here’s another chapter of my story.  
> I haven’t, and the last scene is still haunting me. Working on an episode coda but it will probably take a few more days. In the meantime, let’s find out what really happened the night Anthony Morris died.

***

Steve sped over the slick pavement, taking the Silverado through Honolulu’s industrial area.

In the 10-minute ride to the motel, he’d come close to clipping both a delivery van and a cab that had tried to get in his way, earning a few glares and more than a curse word from drivers and unsuspecting pedestrians he'd scared out of their minds. 

Car races and heartaches. Just another day in the life.

As he took the Nimitz Highway towards the city’s airport, he thought about calling Danny. Not that he needed help. Support, maybe. Or possibly because whenever he was around Steve didn't feel so damn lost and alone. 

Danny was his partner and best friend. But Danny had already done so much for him, he reasoned, and didn’t need to get involved in another mess. 

_I'm my own family_ , he had told his father once, when anger at being sent away was still raw and coursing freely through his veins. To this day he still regretted it, though the truth behind that statement was something he’d lived by for decades. Steve McGarrett could handle himself perfectly well. He could take all the crap the world wanted to throw at him and never break down. 

Except... 

Hands tight on the steering wheel, he briefly glanced at himself in the rear-view mirror. His hair held track marks from his fingers running through it too many times. His eyes had taken on the flat look of some of the war veterans he’d met during his career, his lips compressed into a bloodless line.

If his sister wasn't already afraid and cowering into an unfamiliar room, he would’ve probably scared the hell out of her.

The red neon sign of the motel finally came into view and he braked the truck to a stop. Seconds later, he was rapping on the door to her room. “Mary, open up!”

As soon as she saw him, the young woman threw her arms around Steve's neck, enveloping him into a much-needed hug.

“Steve, oh my god... I was so worried about you,” she said between sobs, clinging to her sibling as if her life depended on it. 

It most certainly did.

“It's all right, Mare. Everything's gonna be okay.” He cradled her head in his hand and held her close, wishing his words were true. Offering comfort wasn't his strong suit and watching her suffer tore at him in ways he didn't want to be torn. “How are you, huh? How're you holding up?” 

“I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Arm around her shoulders, he led her to the queen-size bed that filled up almost the entire space and took a chair out of the small desk nearby, placing it so he could sit directly in front of her. “You're shaking,” he said as he sat her down.

“I'm alright.” 

He almost smiled at her reply. Those damn McGarrett genes were both a blessing and a curse.

“Mary,” he whispered. “What’d you do?” It wasn’t really a question, but the words were out before he even realized it. 

Mary Ann’s gaze didn’t waver. “I did what I had to.” 

“Tell me what happened.”

She looked down for a moment, as if the shabby, dark-green carpet beneath her feet could offer her the strength she needed.

“Please. It's important.”

Take your time, he wanted to add, but he didn't know if they had any. No one knew where they were, or so he thought. What if they found out? He needed the information. And he needed it now.

Mary wiped a few errant tears from her eyes. “Okay.” 

She drew in a breath and started her story.

***

_“Anthony? What are you doing here?”_

_At 11:00pm of an uneventful Thursday, her ex-partner was the last person Mary had expected to see. She’d opened the door without too much thinking, expecting it to be Junior bringing Eddie back home or Danny Williams coming to wake her brother up for a case._

_It had taken Joan longer than usual to fall asleep and she felt exhausted, so she had come down to the kitchen to drink an infusion and relax before going to bed._

_And now here she was, face to face with the man she’d sworn never to let in her life ever again. She narrowed her eyes at him, her inquisitive stare demanding an answer to her question._

_“Hey, Mary,” Anthony smiled awkwardly. “I, uh... I wanted to see you.”_

_“I told you to stay away from me.”_

_He took a step forward, nearly tripping over the doormat. Even at a distance, she could smell the alcohol on his breath._

_“Go away, Anthony.” She raised her chin and crossed her arms over her chest, giving him a glimpse of the steely look she’d leveled at him many times during their months together._

_“Come on, I just wanna talk to you. It’s late and I just traveled for six hours, the least you can do is hear me out!”_

_“No.”_

_A flood of anger rushed over him. “You can’t say no to me!”_

_“You’re drunk.”_

_“I don't have to justify myself to you!” he exploded, his anger growing into a full-blown rage._

_“Lower your voice, my daughter is sleeping.”_

_“Don't tell me what to do!”_

_“Anthony, please...”_

_“You don't talk to me like that, you hear me? You don't talk to me like that!”_

_“Stop it! This is not your house, and I don't take orders from you anymore,” she said, jabbing her finger at his chest. “Now lower your voice.”_

_“Let me in. I just wanna talk to you!”_

_“We've got nothing to say.”_

_“Mary, I'm warning you...” He swayed slightly and reached for the doorframe, holding onto it for support. “Why are you even mad at me? You know I love you.”_

_“Why am I mad at you? Do you even have to ask?”_

_“I’m sorry, alright, I didn’t mean to!”_

_“I don’t wanna hear that. I’ve been right all along.”_

_Anthony stepped forward, coming through the space between her and the doorframe. “We can still be happy together, you know? You, me and Joanie…”_

_The hair on the back of her neck stood straight up. Never in a million years. She grabbed his arm to let him back out. “Get out of here.”_

***

“And that's when you came down,” Mary said, her hands still clasped between Steve’s strong ones.

Steve swallowed hard. He knew some of the details from Danny but hearing the story from his sister’s voice was way more painful than he'd imagined. He stood up, surprised that his legs would support him. Mary pulled him down again and continued. “The minute I saw him there, I realized he’d never leave us alone. No matter how far away I ran, he’d always follow. I was ashamed, and I knew what he did to me would upset you. That's why I sent you away. You've already been through so much, I wanted to protect you.”

“Did he hurt you?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“No.”

“Then why, I mean—” He stood up again, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed to sit. 

Mary sighed, struggling to find the right words to finish the story.

***

_“You know what that man needs, right?” Anthony grimaced as he pushed himself off the floor, clutching his stomach and wheezing for air._

_“Shut up, Anthony. You don't know the first thing about my brother.”_

_The man wiped his bloodied nose with the back of his hand. “Why’d you let him treat me like that, huh?”_

_“Because you’re a selfish son of a bitch who’s never treated me like I deserve!”_

_“That’s not—”_

_“Please. Spare me your pathetic excuses! I've put up with your crap for too long.”_

_“I’m not leaving you here.”_

_“You don’t have a choice! I’m not coming back with you. Not today, not ever!”_

_“Then we can live here, raise Joanie on the island.”_

_Mary stared at him in disbelief. “Are you seriously that dense? There’s no way I’m letting you near me or my daughter again!” As if on cue, the little girl let her presence known. “Mommy?” she called from the upstairs bedroom._

_“See, you woke her up, great job!”_

_“Where the hell are you going?”_

_“To check on my daughter. You wait here, you hear me? I don’t want her to get scared.”_

_Anthony grabbed her by the arm and glared at her. “You’re coming with me, Mary. Get used to it. I’m not taking no as an answer.” He held her gaze for a long moment, then loosened his grip and pointed upstairs. “Go check on your daughter, do whatever you gotta do but we’re leaving this house together.”_

_Climbing the stairs on unsteady legs, Mary Ann turned around to make sure he wasn’t following and quickly stepped inside Steve’s room. She knew where he kept his service weapon and hoped he hadn’t taken it with him when he’d left. Shaky fingers opened the bedside drawer and she sighed in relief when she spotted the SIG P226 still in its holster._

_She grabbed it, hiding it under her loose shirt, then made a beeline for her old bedroom where Joanie was still crying and calling her name._

_It took a few minutes to reassure her and put her back to sleep. Once the child quieted down, Mary rose shakily from the bed and ran a hand through her hair, bracing herself for what was about to come._

_She needed to end this. One way or another, she needed to make sure Anthony would be out of their lives for good._

_Her hands closed over the gun and tears welled up in her eyes as she lingered in the doorway and gave her daughter another long look. Then she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath and closed the door behind her._

_The wooden stairs creaked on her way down and Mary stilled, but Anthony didn’t even notice. He had his back to her and seemed to be looking out the window. For one, brief second she wished Steve was back home. He could take this off her hands, find some kind of excuse to arrest him. He was the head of a task force after all. No one would question it. But then she remembered why she had insisted he’d leave, and reasoned that this was her mess and her mess alone. She would face whatever consequence if it meant living her life free from the overwhelming fear that had accompanied her since Anthony had turned from perfect boyfriend to violent stranger._

_Adjusting her grip on the SIG, she flicked off the safety and pointed it at the man’s back. “Get out of my house.”_

_Anthony turned around at the sound of her voice and his eyes grew wide. “Whoa,” he gasped, holding up his hands. “Are you crazy? Put down that gun!”_

_“I said I’m not coming with you. Not to LA, not anywhere.” Mary said flatly, taking a step forward. “Now leave. Leave us alone, and don’t ever come back.”_

_“Come on, Mary, you can’t give up on us! We were good together...”_

_“That was a long time ago. Before you showed your true colors.”_

_Up until that moment, Mary Ann didn’t know if she was just going to scare him, fire off a warning shot or take him out for good. Then he moved forward, as if daring her to shoot, and suddenly there was nothing else in her mind but the safety of herself and her child._

_She raised both arms, aiming to the man’s chest._

_“You won’t shoot me. You don’t have the guts to do it.” His voice was angry, but she could see the fear in his eyes. “Do you?”_

_Mary hesitated just enough to commit to mind the terror on his face as he realized she was indeed serious and there was no way out. Then, without a second thought, she squeezed the trigger._

_Anthony staggered backward but didn't fall. He opened his mouth, sucked in air and exhaled as he looked down at the blood bubbling out of the wound. He clasped his hands to his chest, then looked at her. “Help me,” he moaned. She just stared at him, the gun still in her trembling hands._

_Then his knees buckled, and he went down._

_His last thought before everything went black was for the drive up north in his rental convertible he’d never get to take._

_Silence enveloped the room for a moment, along with the smell of gunpowder burning Mary's nostrils. She looked down at the sprawled form that used to be her ex-partner and couldn't feel nothing but relief. Did that make her a criminal? Steve would probably think so, but Steve didn't know what she’d been through, or just how far a parent will go to protect his child._

_She crouched down in front of him. Even to her untrained eye it was clear the man was dead. She'd never fired a gun in her life —well, except for that one night in Santa Monica when she'd hit all six of her targets at the Arcade and impressed the hell out of Anthony on their first date— and she had killed a man in cold blood on her first try._

_Mindful of her daughter sleeping in her bedroom upstairs, she then used the burner phone she’d bought in LA when she had first thought about leaving Anthony and dialed 911, anonymously alerting HPD about a possible shooting. She knew they’d recognize the address and speed up the response time._

_Only when she heard sirens approaching Mary finally grabbed her purse, put Steve’s gun in it and headed out the door, disappearing towards the beach._

***

“I had to do it,” she finished, staring into her brother’s eyes. “I didn't have a choice. He was never going to leave us alone.”

Steve felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Everything became quiet in the room except for their breathing. Or his sister’s breathing, because her words had taken his away. 

“It was like I had no control, Steve. Like I was watching someone else do it, someone other than me.”

As a cop, he knew he should think about the consequences, about the evidence they'd collected against her, but he didn't exactly feel like a cop or a badass Navy SEAL sitting in this dull, anonymous motel room. He felt like a brother, a man trying to come to terms with something that was too big to even begin to process.

“You should've told me, Mare,” he managed to croak out as tears welled up in his eyes. “I should've been there for you...”

Mary shook her head. “Not this time. I didn't want you to be involved. I knew you'd try to hurt him and I couldn't let you. You're all I got left, Steve. With dad dead and mom hiding god knows where you’re the only one Joanie and I can count on. I didn’t want to risk that.”

She walked to the bedside table, opened its top drawer and took out Steve's service piece. “I'd rather go to jail than lose you too,” she said, handing the gun back to him. “You do what you have to do. Just promise me to take care of Joanie.”

“No one's going to jail,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Danny told HPD you shot Anthony in self-defense. You just have to stick to this version.”

“He did?” Mary couldn’t hide the surprise in her tone. 

Steve nodded.

“I'm sorry. I can't.”

Surprise flashed across his features and he recoiled from her as if burned. “What do you mean you can't? Of course you can.” 

“I need to do what’s right,” she insisted. “I broke the law. It’s what I deserve.”

“No, it’s not!” His voice came out sharper and more desperate than he’d intended, but Steve barely noticed it. All he wanted was to shake some sense into his sister. They were offering her a way out, a chance to put all of this behind and live the life she deserved. “Listen to me, I’m not gonna let you ruin your life, ruin Joanie’s life, because of that bastard.” He framed his hands on both sides of her face. “Love goes both ways, Mare. How am I supposed to live knowing you're sitting behind bars when I could've stopped it from happening?”

Mary pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry, Steve. I’m really, really sorry...”

“We need you, Mare,” he admitted in a shaky voice. “Please let us help you.” He didn't know what else to say, and the pain beneath her words tightened his throat too much so he just stood there, his eyes pleading for her to understand.

Mary didn’t say anything either, which was probably a first. Steve wasn’t good with words, and he especially didn’t like talking about or expressing his feelings. What he’d just admitted to her spoke volumes about how much he loved her. How could she say no to that?

She eventually took a deep breath that Steve read as both resignation and assent. “Okay,” she whispered a second later.

“Good,” he nodded, relieved. “That’s good.” 

As the fog in his brain eventually cleared enough to let him become aware of his surroundings, Steve noticed the red-and-blue lights flashing outside the window.

 

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: First of all, thank you to everyone who left feedback for my 9x10 coda, “If Tomorrow Never Comes”. That episode is still haunting me, and I needed to let my feeling out.
> 
> I still don’t own anything but my own angsty brain and an unconditional love for these characters. Also, arrest procedure in Hawaii may not be exactly as I’ve described it so please allow some creative license here. Hope you enjoy it and thank you for reading.

***

They were here.

They had found her.

Steve immediately tensed, squaring his shoulders in the tough-guy demeanor that had defined him for most of his adult life. 

Mary sensed the change in his behavior and instinctively pulled him close. “What's wrong? Steve?”

“HPD’s here.”

“Where?”

“Outside.”

He moved over to the window and peered through the curtains. Two cruisers were parked on the other side of the street, along with an unmarked car that looked a lot like the one Kao had been driving earlier.

Had he followed him? It hadn't even occurred to him to look for a tail. 

He ran a hand through his hair. This wasn't the way he wanted it to end, not with officers ready to storm inside like they were dealing with a hardened criminal.

_Think, McGarrett, think._

He could talk to them, reason with Duke so he would keep the detective at bay. Or he could sneak his sister out the back door and take her to the station later. Either way, there was no delaying the inevitable.

“What's going on? Are they waiting for us?”

Steve didn’t answer. He stared out the window, focused on the action in the parking lot— or lack thereof. Two uniforms were standing beside their RMP, waiting for instructions. Another squad car was parked behind, a lone figure sitting inside. 

About ten feet farther, detective Kao was inspecting the pay phone Mary had used earlier, his trusted notebook always in hand.

“So, what happens next?” she tried again. She was getting more and more nervous by the minute. One thing was to confess a murder to her brother, another to tell the truth to a whole bunch of cops. Somehow it just made everything more real.

Steve turned around and exhaled deeply. “I don't know, Mare. Case like this is gonna be treated as a homicide so there's probably an arrest warrant issued in your name.”

“Arrest warrant?” 

He walked back to her and gently kissed her forehead. “Don't worry. I won't let anything bad happen to you.” 

Mary leaned against him, her head tucked beneath his chin, where she could listen to his heart. 

“Steve?”

“What?”

She lifted her head off his chest and gazed into her brother’s eyes. “Are you in trouble with them?”

Steve pulled back to look at her. “What you mean?”

“The police. They know you're not part of this, right? That you didn't plan it with me?”

“Is that what you did? Plan it?”

She shook her head. “No. But Anthony hurt me. I didn’t want him to get away with it.”

_He wouldn’t have_ , Steve thought to himself. _I would have taken care of it_. 

“He messed with my head, Steve. And I was afraid he was going to hurt Joan so I had to—”

His hand shot up to cut her off. “Shhh— Don't. Don't say that again. Ever. You shot him in self-defense. He was going to hurt you, so you had no choice. That's all you need to say. Just... stick to that and it's gonna be okay.”

“Take care of her, alright?” she repeated, placing her palm on his cheek. “Promise me, Steve. Promise you will.” 

“I promise. Just until this is over.”

“Thank you.”

Steve looked down, feeling once again the sudden prick of tears. “We’ll be okay,” he whispered in reassurance. “We'll all be okay.” Another promise he didn't know if he could keep. “Come on, it’s time to go.”

She wordlessly nodded and followed him as he unlocked the door, swinging it open. 

Danny was standing on the other side, his fist raised, ready to knock. He jumped, startled, and took a step back. “Hey. I, uh... I’m sorry about all this,” he said, pointing to the flurry of activity outside. “I came as soon as I could.”

If Steve was surprised to see him, he didn’t show it. The only emotion the Jersey detective could read, bright as if displayed on a white neon sign, was the heartbreak plastered on his partner’s face, no doubt courtesy of Mary’s full account of the facts.

“Hey, Mary. You alright?”

“Yes,” the young woman nodded, holding onto her brother’s arm. “Sorry about last night...”

Danny shrugged. “Water under the bridge.”

“They tailed me,” Steve said, a mix of incredulity and shame in his tone.

“I asked them not to. Told them I’d take care of it. I’m sorry, buddy, I did my best. Kao’s a stubborn son of a bitch, it was the only way he agreed to let you out of prison.”

The former SEAL hesitated a couple of beats, then stepped back and opened the door wider, allowing his friend inside.

“Duke know about this?”

Danny nodded. “They’re waiting for us.”

Steve tiredly rubbed his temple, feeling the all-too-familiar throb of another headache working its way through his skull.

This was it. It was time to turn her in.

“Come on, Mare. We need to go.”

Mary wanted to ask him where it was exactly that they were taking her, and what was gonna happen after that, but she couldn't force a single word out. Fear had stiffened her body and filled her mouth. For one long second she stood frozen in place, too afraid to do anything but stare at her brother and his partner, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

Danny sensed the other woman's disquiet. He'd seen tough, loud-mouthed criminals turn into scared little boys at the mere thought of spending jail time so he knew from experience that the law and its procedures could easily intimidate someone, especially if you didn't know how it worked.

“Here's what's gonna happen,” he tried. Maybe if he explained it to her, she wouldn't be afraid. “We're taking you into custody now. That means you're coming with us to the station. When we get there, we're gonna need you to make a statement and then you're going to be fingerprinted and photographed. It's what we call ‘processing’. Steve will be with you through all of that.”

He cast a sideway glance at his partner who nodded in appreciation. 

“The station is probably where you’re going to spend the night, waiting to see a judge. That part is called ‘arraignment’. What they do is inform you of the charges against you and what rights you have. That's also usually when bail is set.”

He paused for a moment to make sure Mary was following him. 

“After that, it's really up to the Grand Jury. They're the people who must determine if you have to go to trial or walk away free. Is everything clear so far?”

“Y-yes. Thank you.”

“Now, before we do any of this...” his words trailed off as he turned to Steve, who was looking at him like he was begging him to make it all go away, to make everything better. Danny wished he knew how and gave him an apologetic look before continuing. “...I'm gonna need to read you your rights.” 

Mary Ann’s hand flew to her mouth and she froze, looking like she was about to shatter into a million pieces. The McGarrett genes kicked in a moment later. She squared her shoulders, folded her arms protectively across her chest and nodded at him in understanding.

Danny thought this would be a good time for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. He’d take just about anything to spare them all this painful moment. The only thing keeping him upright was the thought that he’d rather it be him than some unfamiliar officer or worse, a heartless bastard like Detective Kao. 

“You have the right to remain silent,” he started, feeling like the biggest jerk walking on earth. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can't afford an attorney..."

Steve closed his eyes and tried to drown out the sound of his partner's voice as he went on with his speech. 

Minutes later, as he escorted his sister out of the motel room and inside one of HPD’s cars, he pretended to ignore the stares of the officers gathered outside, not wanting them to feel sorry for him. His face was cold and emotionless, as if he had successfully managed to block all personal feelings to just go through the motion.

The ride to the station was also a blur. The only thought cutting through the pain was the memory of a similar night almost a decade back, when he had been accused of the Governor’s murder.

Apparently, not much had changed. 

Life was spiraling away from him again, and he was powerless to stop it.

***

It was just short of midnight when they finally arrived at the precinct.

Under the watchful eye of Sergeant Lukela, Steve took his sister to one of the interrogation rooms, got her a cup of coffee and told her to wait. “Don't say anything to anybody,” he advised her. “I’ll be right back.”

Then he closed the door, walked past Danny, past a concerned Duke, and disappeared into the men's room.

He needed a moment.

Just one moment to collect himself.

He needed...

His legs suddenly felt numb and he was forced to lean against the wall to catch himself from falling. Hands on his thighs, he closed his eyes and just stood there, listening to his ragged breathing.

“You gotta breathe through your nose, Sir.”

He nearly jumped at the sudden voice coming from his left. Junior Reigns was standing a few feet over by the sinks, snatching paper towels out of a metal dispenser on the wall nearby. 

“That's what I do when I, uh... need to calm down,” he added, taking in his boss’ distraught appearance. His face was drawn, and he looked bone-tired. There was also a kind of sadness in his eyes that he'd never seen before.

“I’m sorry about what happened your sister.”

Steve drew in a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. He considered telling him to leave him alone, that he was not afraid or panicking, but there was really no point pretending he was fine. Not with Junior anyway. The kid was too smart to buy his crap. 

“How's she doing?”

And insistent. He could be very insistent.

“She killed someone,” he replied uncomfortably, shifting his eyes off him.

Junior shrugged like it was no big deal. “Word is it was justified. The man had it coming. I'm sorry I wasn't home to help.”

Steve stared at him, taken aback by his honesty. He should've asked what he was doing at the station so late, why he was always so damn polite, instead he just stood there in silence, waiting for his heartbeat to slow back to normal.

The younger man took a few steps towards the exit then stopped, debating whether or not to say what was on his mind. For some reason, he felt compelled to share one of his deepest secrets. They were close, after all. And McGarrett had given him a job and a family when his own blood had turned their backs on him. “I know,” he eventually admitted. “I know what it's like when you can barely breathe. When it feels like you're suffocating and no one else gives a damn.”

Steve blinked, not sure how to respond to that. “You do?”

Junior nodded. He did know. He knew it perfectly well. “When Maya died, I felt as if I'd lost purpose. I felt stranded, lost, unsure. My sister was my anchor, and suddenly she was gone and I… I didn't know how to live in a world where she was no longer around.”

Steve nodded, too stunned to speak. He stared at him for a full five seconds before his body shocked itself into response. “I'm sorry, man,” he whispered. “I'm sorry you had to go through that.”

The young SEAL shrugged off his concern with the raise of a hand. “It's okay, Sir. I just wanted you to know you're not alone. Take care of your sister,” he said before striding out of the room.

A moment later, Danny peered his head in. “You alright?”

Steve rubbed his tired eyes. “No,” he sighed. “I'm not.” 

Danny's gaze faltered, dropped away. “We're ready when you are.”

“I'll be right out,” Steve replied, but his partner was already gone. Then he turned around, balled his hand into a fist, and punched a hole in the wall.

***

Everything was ready.

Paperwork had been filled out, phone calls made, arrangements settled.

Steve relieved the officer posted outside the interrogation room and stepped inside. “Come on, Mare," he said softly, sliding his arm around his sister’s shoulders.

Mary stood up and followed him like a zombie, mechanically taking one step after another as he led her through the hallway and towards the holding cells.

“They can't arraign you until tomorrow, so you’re gonna have to spend the night here,” he explained. “I’ll stay as long as I can, and I'll make sure they take care of you, alright?”

She nodded. Danny followed a few steps behind, running interference and shielding them from any unwanted attention. He knew Steve would rather endure a torture session than escort his own sister to jail, but at the same time he wouldn't trust anyone else with such a painful task. And the irony of it was, this could’ve easily been him turning his baby brother in if he’d had the guts to stop him all those years ago. 

Matty would be behind bars, but he would be alive. 

Danny regretted that decision every day. As his own memories and pent-up emotions began to leak out of the hollow in his heart where he’d bottled them up the empty, cold cell came into view at the end of the corridor. The fluorescent lights flickered above their heads as both siblings dragged their feet across the floor, instinctively slowing their paces to delay the inevitable. 

Duke Lukela was waiting for them, his face and demeanor showing his deepest sorrow and regret. When he opened the cell, motioning for Mary to get inside, Steve’s heart sank. His fingers clutched the cell bars as he watched her hesitantly step inside the confined space, his lungs struggling for breath against ribs of stone. 

A tear rolled down his cheek.

He felt completely torn apart, at the mercy of a devastating grief that was coming in waves, grueling like a shard in his guts, and wished for the millionth time he could've spared her all this.

Then the door closed, as loud as a gunshot, and they both jumped. The sound of the locks clicking shut followed a moment later. Mary curled both hands around the railing, close to her brother’s, and they both lowered their heads until their foreheads almost touched.

That’s how Danny left them, quietly stepping back into the hallway with Duke to give them a few moments of privacy. 

Hunched over, lost, sharing a vulnerability that they rarely allowed themselves to feel.

***

“So, is it good?” Mary asked as soon as the judge dismissed her case.

“It is,” Steve smiled. “For now, at least. It means you're coming home.”

“But how, I mean... it was only a couple of minutes. How can that judge decide in such a short time? He talked like he didn't even care.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Steve said flatly. “They do lots of arraignments every day. They don’t have time to care.”

“It’s not unusual,” Danny chimed in. “This is not a trial. He’s not here to decide if you’re guilty or innocent. He just charges you, sets bail if he feels like it, and tells you when to show up for the hearing with the Grand Jury.”

“Is that what he just did? ‘Cause to me it sounded more like a bunch of words in a foreign language.” 

Danny barely suppressed a smile. Arraignments were fast, frustrating, and filled with legal jargon. No wonder Mary was confused.

An officer grasped her arm to escort her outside. “Come on, we need to clear the room.”

The young woman froze. “Wait, where is he taking me?" She turned to Steve, a look of panic on her face. “You said I could come home! I wanna see Joanie!”

“You will,” he immediately reassured her. “I just need to post bail and sign some papers first.” He nodded to the uniform. “This officer will take you to the cells behind the courtroom. You’re gonna have to wait there until I’m done.”

Mary looked at him, not entirely convinced. “What about the bail money?”

“What about it?” he asked. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”

“Steve, wait. It’s a lot of money.”

“So?” 

Did she really think he cared? He could end up broke and not give a damn as long as she didn’t have to spend time in jail.

“My bedroom,” she said as the officer led her through the door. “Second drawer to the left. Find my bank account info—”

Steve kissed her on the cheek, effectively silencing her. “I love you. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours.”

Danny’s lips curved into another smile. The relationship between Steve and Mary had always fascinated him. Two polar opposites that loved each other fiercely, two people who weren’t afraid to call each other’s bullshit but would walk through fire to save the other.

Over the years, Steve had shown the same overprotectiveness towards him and to a lesser degree, Grace and Charlie. Sometimes it annoyed him, but most of the time Danny felt lucky to have such a strong presence by his side, someone who wouldn't bat an eye before sacrificing himself for the people he loved. And though he'd never admit it to anyone, his attention had always flattered him. If you were one of the very few people Steve McGarrett loved, well... it was very reassuring. 

“It's gonna be alright, Steve. I promise.”

“Uh-huh.” He kept his eyes on his sister until she was completely out of sight and then turned to Danny. “Thank you. For everything you did. For being there for us.” The look he gave him was one of pure, unadulterated gratitude and love, one of those looks that makes you feel like you’re one of the most special people in the world.

Danny nodded, gave his arm a comforting squeeze and guided him outside. 

_Yes_ , he thought, _very reassuring_.

 

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hope everyone had a great Christmas. I caught up on some reading and writing, and I’m happy to share another chapter with you. Story’s coming to an end, I’ll post the epilogue sometime next week. I do have other stories in the work though so fear not, I will be back!
> 
> Hope you're ready for some H/C. Our favorite BFFs are finally spending some time together…

***

Mostly, he remembered the ocean.

The waves rolling in an endless pattern, the color of the water against the golden sand.

Sure, he'd seen it every day of his life but that one time, on that particular day, his breath had been taken away, as if he had realized for the first time just how small and vulnerable he was compared to its greatness.

Standing beside him, his mother had explained that the Pacific was the world’s largest ocean, and with the typical determination of every ten-year old, Steve had immediately replied that really, it was a no-brainer, because there couldn't be anything bigger than that. 

Doris had smiled then, kissed him on the forehead, and told him that sometimes, things are just not as they seem. That what we see is just part of the surface. The rest is left to the imagination, or in that case the textbooks she was going to make sure he read as soon as the new school year started.

That day, she had taken both her kids to Hanauma Bay. It was a family event they’d planned for weeks, a day for the four of them to gather and spend some quality time together. But John’s work had interfered at the very last moment, and his dad had never been good at saying no to it. A young woman had gone missing, and HPD needed his help. After a brief but intense argument, John McGarrett had left, slamming the door on his way out, and Doris had come to Steve’s room where he and Mary were gathered, telling them to get their things ready. Beach day was still on, even if it was just the three of them, and she was going to make sure they’d enjoy every minute of it. 

When John had surprisingly showed up a few hours later, Steve was standing on the shore. His mom’s face had lit up and so had Mary’s, who had perfected her ‘daddy’s girl’ role to a tee. 

Steve had breathed in the salty air, feeling invincible.

If only he'd known.

Later, while they were playing in the water, Mary had found a small fish. The poor thing was obviously in pain – twisting, gasping for air. Steve could tell there was nothing that could be done for it, but his sister had cradled it in her small hands and tried her best to help it any way she could. She had tried to feed it, put it into a small bucket she'd filled with water. All to no avail. The fish had died a short while later, and Mary had started crying. Not the irritating weep of a spoiled brat, but a heartbroken cry that couldn't be consoled.

He remembered getting angry at her, afraid that a stupid fish was going to ruin their day, then unable to witness his sister's pain any longer, he had offered to dig a hole in the sand so they could bury it. Even his mother had helped, saying a few words for the eulogy as they covered the makeshift grave.

Finally satisfied that the fish had found its peace, Mary had said goodbye to it and enjoyed the rest of the day like nothing had happened. 

That was the kind of sweet, sensitive kid his sister had been before Doris’ fake death and life in general messed her up. The kind of family they were before the subterfuges, the lies, the pain.

Maybe if things hadn't so drastically changed he wouldn't be here now, working up the courage to get out of his truck, or trying to pick up the pieces of what was left of those four people playing in the sand.

 _Maybe_.

Stepping out into the humid air, Steve was surprised by how easily those images had slipped back into his brain, as clear and vivid as if everything had happened just minutes before. He thought he'd forgotten all about that day.

The wind bit at his face and hands but he barely felt it as he moved along the familiar area of the National Memorial Cemetery, grass crunching beneath the soles of his shoes. 

He had parked some distance away, preferring to walk for the solitude and peace that it offered. It also gave him a chance to think about what he was gonna say to his dad since he hadn't really planned the visit.

After leaving Mary in police custody, he had sat in the Silverado for the longest time. Then he'd started driving, and without even realizing it, had found himself heading toward his father's resting place.

Standing above the simple, marble grave, Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and stared down at it. 

“Hey, Dad,” he said quietly. “I know it's been a while but, uh... a few things happened since my last visit.” He stopped and wiped his sweaty palms against his thighs. “Mary's back. She's alright, she’s...” Damn, who was he kidding? Despite being raised as a Catholic he'd never been much of a believer, but if there really was an afterlife and John McGarrett was looking down at him he probably knew that he was lying to him.

“She's not alright,” he admitted, feeling a knot beginning to develop in his stomach. “She's sitting behind bars at the courthouse.”

He knelt beside the grave, plucking a few leaves that had fallen on it. “She killed a man. Ended him with a perfect shot to the chest…” 

A flock of birds flew over his head, soaring across the sky, their wings moving in sync in a beautifully choreographed dance. Steve looked up, watching them until they became just specks on the horizon.

“I was mad at you, dad,” he admitted, sinking down to the ground and trying like hell to hold back his emotions. “The day you sent us away, I hated you with all I had. I wasn’t ready to be a man, I just— I just wanted to be a boy. I understand now. I understand you just wanted to keep us safe. That was all you were worried about. I tried to do that with Mary, keep her safe, but I failed…I'm sorry…”

Tears filled his eyes. “You know what I've been thinking about? That day at Hanauma Bay. After we buried that fish, while we were swimming in the water, I grabbed Mary's leg and pulled her under. She didn't know how to swim so you got mad at me because you thought I'd scared her to death. But she came out of the water and started laughing, asking me to do it again...”

He cleared his throat, nodding as if his father had just answered that yes, he remembered it as well. It was probably a stupid thought, but he held it in his mind anyway. 

“I’m not sure what happened. Why we stopped talking to each other...” Mary had asked him a few years back. She wanted to know why they weren't even friends anymore, what she'd done to deserve that. Steve didn't have an answer to that, but the question had stayed with him. “What we went through... it was hell. But I survived, and it made me stronger. I guess I expected her to follow my path, solve her own problems, and when she started struggling I felt… disappointed and uh, I left her behind.”

The clouds parted, revealing a pallid sun casting its rays over the land. “I'm sorry I wasn't the brother she deserved, and I'm sorry if I ever disappointed you…” He barely got the words out. The last threads of his control shredded, and Steve started to cry. Months’ worth of pain, grief and anger poured out of him before he could stop them, racking his frame so violently it scared him.

Burying his face in his hands, he cried for a mother that even after all these years continued to lie and elude him, for Mary and the scars she was going to have to live with and for his own life, altered by all these traumatic events.

As he sat on the grass, his defenses completely down, time slowly slipped away. Later, he wouldn't be able to remember how long he'd stayed there. Only the touch of a hand that brought his senses back. A touch quieter than a breath. 

Looking up through eyes still filled with tears, he saw Danny smiling at him. 

Danny always knew where to find him. 

Always seemed to know what was going through his head. 

“Hey…I called a few times to see how you guys were doing and it kept going straight to voicemail,” he said, deliberately failing to mention how worried he had been as he’d kept dialing. “This sounded like a good place to be.”

Steve wiped his eyes with the back of his hands but did not speak for several minutes. Then he tilted his head to the side and looked at Danny, brows furrowed in pain and confusion. “I tried, Danny. I tried so hard…but I can't keep everyone safe,” he finally said in a soft, child-like voice.

“You don't need to,” Danny replied, crouching down next to him and putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Babe, listen to me. I understand, alright? I understand a lot more than you think, but there's just so much you can do. The thing is, sometimes, no matter how hard we try to protect the people we love, they just mess things up. And when that happens, we have to find a way not to blame ourselves for that,” he said with a shrug. “You can't carry this weight on your shoulders…”

“Do you think my dad loved me? I mean, I know he did but sometimes…”

Danny stilled, a sharp ache stinging his chest as he wondered what had prompted the question. “Of course he did. Listen, Steve, love is never black or white, alright? There's a thousand shades of gray in between. And he may not have showed it to you like you deserved but he loved you very, very much.” 

Steve nodded unconvincingly. “Sometimes... I feel like I've disappointed him, you know? That if he were here today, he'd tell me exactly how many ways I've screwed up.”

“It's not your fault, buddy," Danny said firmly. “This thing with Mary…none of this is. You can ask yourself why stuff like this happens, or what you could've done differently, but the truth is sometimes people just disappoint us. Even the most important people in our life. Matty was a good brother, and yet I've spent the last six years trying to understand why he did what he did. I can’t. I don't. We don't get to choose our blood family, but we can make sure we learn from their mistakes and become better persons.” His hand settled at the center of Steve’s back, then slowly traveled upward, eventually curling around the back of his neck. “Trust me, there is nothing stronger than the love of a parent for his child. You'll get to experience that soon, and then you'll understand what I'm talking about.”

A humorless laugh escaped Steve’s lips. “Soon, huh?”

“Well, if you stop living like a monk.” 

“I'm tired, Danny. So tired...” 

There was nothing Danny could offer to that so he just sat by his friend’s side, rubbing gently at his neck, waiting for the emotions to run their course. “It's gonna be all right, Steve, I promise. You'll get through this.”

“I still can't believe I'll never see him again. I miss him so much...”

Feeling weak and empty, Steve unconsciously leaned forward so that his head was resting on Danny's shoulder, sinking into the comfort he was offering. It was nice not having to be the one in control for a while. To be the one who was protected instead of the one who'd been protecting everybody else. 

Danny wrapped both arms around him, wishing he could take in at least part of his pain. His mind flashed back to the day when he had almost lost him for good, when he'd urged him to hold on so he could get him the help he needed, whispering words of reassurance as he prayed that a miracle would save them both. 

“I still owe you a proper thank you,” Steve said as if he’d read his mind, still wrapped in his best friend's arms.

“Good. I could use one.”

“Lou told me what you did that day. After you landed the plane.” 

He had listened to the emergency call. One lonely afternoon, months after the accident, he’d decided he wanted— no, _needed_ to know what had happened after he’d passed out, the last coherent thought on his lips the knowledge that he would not make it to land. 

He had heard Danny’s frantic voice as he revealed his true identity to HIC and requested immediate assistance, the way he’d managed to juggle gages and levers he knew nothing about on a plane he had no idea how to fly. But most of all, he’d heard control ask him to ditch and put the plane into the water, and his partner stubbornly refusing to even consider it.

Because of him.

Danny had jeopardized his future, his own chance at survival, to try and get him to safety. Had held his own, even as his voice trembled with fear. Ignored logic when everyone around him advised him not to. As his blood pooled on the floor of the aircraft, Danny had urged him to hold on, to live, because he wasn’t going to quit and neither should Steve. 

Add to that all he’d learned from Lou, the fact that he had given him half his liver, and Steve knew he would never be able to repay him.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Danny rubbed his palm against the back of his neck and closed his eyes, his mood darkening again.

“You would've done the same thing,”

Steve nodded. He had seen it in his own eyes, the determination to avenge a loved one’s death. And he'd felt it in his heart, the despair and emptiness the night Danny got shot. He knew he would've done the same. 

He pulled himself to his feet, balancing against his friend's shoulder for support. 

Danny shrugged to let him know that thanks weren't necessary and got up as well. “Did you post bail?”

“Not yet.”

He shook his head, but his lips betrayed a playful smile. “It's been four hours, buddy. She's gonna be pissed.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair. “Damn.” Pissed? She was probably going to rip him a new one. “Danny, I...”

“Go. I'll talk to you later.”

He hesitated just a heartbeat, turning his gaze back to his father's headstone. 

_Goodbye, Dad_. 

_I love you_.

 

TBC


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Happy 2019, everyone! Hope it gives you happiness to enjoy the good days and strength to survive the bad ones. And lots of great moments to fangirl about. 
> 
> Here’s the epilogue. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who read this story and took the time to comment on it. I really appreciate it.
> 
> Until next time…

***

_Three months later_

 

“So, you're really moving out?” 

Mary looked at him from the kitchen doorway, apron tied to her waist. 

The unmistakable aroma that had greeted Steve as he’d returned home after walking Eddie could only mean one thing: his sister was baking. Again. That was how she relaxed, he’d found out. Some people read, other swam. 

Mary baked. 

Surprisingly good. 

If she hadn’t already decided to get her own place, Steve would’ve had to find new ways to burn off the extra calories. 

For some strange miracle, the Grand Jury had decided not to indict her. No trial. No prison time. She'd walked away a free woman. Their lawyer had said something about not enough jurors agreeing to vote to bring her to trial. Highly unusual for the Hawaii State Justice System but here she was, weeks later, treating him to a midnight snack. 

Relieved and extremely grateful, they’d both welcomed the unexpected outcome. 

Anthony Morris’ body had been transported back to California and buried in the LA National Cemetery next to his own mother. Not that any of them cared. Mary had chosen to stay in Hawaii and raise her daughter on the island, and had found a lovely cottage on the beach to rent in Waimanalo. Steve had promised to help with the move, volunteering the rest of Five-0 for the task as well.

“I told you I wasn't gonna live here forever,” she said, leaning against the doorframe and crossing her arms over her chest. “Look, when I left LA I didn't have a plan. I just grabbed my kid and my stuff and ran as fast and as far as I could. But now I got this chance to start over, make a brand-new life for me and Joanie, and I wanna make the best out of it.” 

“That’s… very grown-up of you to say,” Steve teased her. 

Mary rolled her eyes at him. “Smartass. But you’re right, I need to stand on my own two feet, and I’m not gonna be able to do that if I’m living with you. That's the only way I'm gonna know that what I have is real.”

“I know.”

“Plus, I don’t want to cramp your style too much. I know you like your alone time and this,” she motioned to the toys and clothing scattered across the living room, “has been giving you a headache since day one.”

Steve smiled. Despite all the time they had missed, Mary knew him well. “I’ve loved having you guys here,” he said, the fondness in his tone leaving no doubt about the truth he was speaking. “This is your house too, Mare, you’re always welcome here.”

“I was sort of counting on that. Your babysitting duties don’t end just because we’re moving out.”

“I was counting on that too.”

A shadow passed across Steve’s features as he sank down into the armchair. Mary eyed him carefully, sensing there was something stirring beneath the surface. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he pursed his lips. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah. Went to visit dad today,” he told her, staring down at his feet. “And it just reminded me that I almost lost you.”

Mary heard the depth of her brother’s pain in that statement and felt her heart break. Yes, she had come really close to losing everything: her freedom, her brother and daughter, her life.

She had thought about it a lot, about how that one moment of fear and rage, that perfectly-placed bullet, had affected them. And most of all, him. Steve was not the same man he had been five, even three years ago. He had changed in so many ways. Wrinkles that had never been there before were now marking his face. Wisdom and patience had replaced impulsivity and recklessness. 

Mary was proud of him. Now more than ever.

“He spent the last fifteen years of his life alone. All he had was his job. Sometimes I'm scared I'm gonna end up just like him...”

“No, Steve, you're not,” Mary crossed the short distance and leaned forward so that she was at eye level. “You have your friends. You have me and Joanie. And you're going to meet someone, and you're gonna be a wonderful husband and father.” She tilted his chin up, gently bringing him to look at her. “You _are_ going to be happy, Steve. God knows you deserve it.”

Steve kissed her on the cheek, a smile on his lips. “I'm glad you're around, Mare.”

“I bet you are,” Mary chuckled. “Who else is gonna feed you apple pie in the middle of the night?” She straightened up and headed towards the kitchen. “Come on, I just took it out of the oven.” 

_No one_ , he thought as he pushed himself off the recliner to join her. 

No one but her and Danny, who had treated him to equally delicious midnight snacks countless times in the nine years they’d known each other.

Mary and Danny. 

The two most important people in his life. 

One related by blood, the other by a deep and intimate bond that had become his reason for being, his source of happiness. 

Drawn by the delicious smell, Steve walked to the kitchen and smiled again at the sight of his sister, a smudge of flour on her cheek, offering him a plate. 

“Want something to drink?” 

“Sure. Whatever you're having.”

 

THE END


End file.
